


The Courtship

by sophe



Series: Warden Secrets [1]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: AU, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grey Wardens, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Original Character(s), Violence, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophe/pseuds/sophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if there was another Warden, one who was born to the Order and cared only for the Grey Wardens?  A warden who has no problem criticizing leaders and speaking her mind.  A Warden who is willing to do whatever she needs in order to re-establish the order in Ferelden.  Catte is that Warden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

While this is definitely in an AU, there are different branches the characters take, it is not so different as to be completely unrecognizable.  I know that Gaider has stated that two wardens cannot have a child.  I also know that there is no unequivocal proof one way or another as to Alistair's parentage.  There are other things that I accept in regards to the world of Thedas and the Dragon Age series.  I am just choosing to ignore them as I write this.

As I wrote this I realized two things.  Maric is indirectly involved in almost all of the lives of the characters in DAO.  We don't see his interactions, but there are hints and I think we all make assumptions.  We know from Alistair, that they met at least once.  We know from The Calling, that he was close with Duncan, we know from Eamon, that they had a relationship, we know from Cailan that his father was revered, and we know from Loghain that Maric was very human.  Yet for such an integral character to the world, we only really see shadows of his existence.  The second is that we know nothing of the time between Maric allowing Wardens back into Ferelden and the fifth blight.  We know milestones and have cobbled together some timelines, but we don't know the specifics.

I wanted to write about Maric, but he wasn't my character so it felt… odd to take his POV.  Instead I created my own character who had a relationship with Maric.  It was a back door into my thoughts, but at least I wouldn't have to break through any locks.  As the words came pouring out I kept on circling back to the beginning.  Catte and Maric couldn't just be, they had to have a beginning.  And so I wrote it.  And as I wrote it, it totally ran away from me.  Their first introduction, the establishing  of their rules for one another, their motivations sort of landed on the paper.  Despite several goes at editing, I couldn't make it better.  It's shit.  I know it's shit, any reader worth their brain cells will know it's shit and well, I don't care.  It just doesn't work without an explanation of their start.  (I tried to use flashbacks and memories, but that ended up being a lot uglier and messier.)  So there you have it, almost 30,000 words of shit, with some porn mingled into the plot, before you get to the story I really wanted to tell.  I apologize because it's just  wrong on so many levels, but as Catte points out, when all you have are bad choices, someone has to make the hard decision and then live with it so others don't have to.  I made the decision to keep their first meetings so no one else had to say "yeah, it's dribble, but without it, it just doesn't gel."

If you don't want to read the angtsy, overly done  romantic crap, start with part two.  I won't blame you.  If you're interested in seeing how Maric and Catte maneuvered through their carefully choreographed dance, start with part one.  You'll be rewarded with some weirdly written porn.  I feel as if I am just offering excuses for part one, but in my mind it is necessary because without it, Catte's response to Maric later on would make no sense.  If I had done my job better, I wouldn't feel a need to explain this ahead of time, but try as I might, I couldn't.  There is sex in the first part because that's what their relationship is about.  Also, as disturbing as some of their scenes are, readers need to know that they don't find them distasteful.  Catte and Maric don't want their interactions to be any different than they are.

 

That all said…

This idea stemmed from a wandering thought I had during a play through when I wanted to smack some of the characters outside the head.  Catte is sort of an extension of me in that regard.   I actually extended that premise even further by questioning what this Warden might have done prior to the Blight and how she might have handled the situation.  I also wanted to try to come up with an explanation for why Cailan was so smitten with the Grey Wardens.  This AU (possibly just bent, not positive if the ending I am heading to is the ending I will keep) accepts the following premises, and to be fair, I want to share them with you since you too need to accept them if you want to enjoy this story.

 

*  Two wardens can have a child, it is just highly improbable, not impossible.  Now imagine how the Order would respond to a child born to two Wardens.  She'd either be locked away or revered, I chose the latter.

*  Maric is not a philanderer.  He is not celibate, but he doesn't just sleep around.  (I blame Katriel and the fact that Loghain and Rowan manipulated him into killing Katriel.)  That said, I imagine that despite his beginnings in the Rebel camps, he still knows he is King and will take what he wants given the right circumstances. 

*  Soldier's Peak is not lost to the Wardens.  They know about it and some of the Wardens even know about Avernus

 

This story accepts the following timeline:

 

9:03 – Maric becomes king (24 yo)

9:05 – Cailan is born

9:08 – Rowan dies

9:10 – Maric heads to the Deep Roads and Alistair is born either at the end of 9:10 or the start of 9:11

9:12 –Maric allows the Grey Wardens to return to Ferelden.

9:15 – Catte (19 yo) begins her plan to re-establish the Wardens in Ferelden (Alistair - 5 yo, Cailan  - 10 yo, Maric – 36 yo, Duncan – 24 yo)

9:20 – Alistair gets tossed to the Chantry

9:25 – Maric is lost at sea and Cailan is coronated and marries Anora

9:30 – The fifth blight is confirmed.


	2. Chapter 2

9:15

Catte pulled her blonde hair into a tight pony tail at the nape of her neck and fastened it with a leather thong.  She looked at her face in the looking glass and blew her bangs out of her eyes.   Her body was spattered with scars.  Some were more pronounced than others; the most recent were puckered and a pale white.  She had given up counting their number after a few months of training and instead accepted that they would continue to multiply.

She grabbed a pair of black leather leggings from the table next to the mirror and pulled them up over her legs.   Catte looked down as she laced them up and tightened them at her waist.  With a final look at her scared torso, she pulled a long sleeved linen shirt over her head and tucked it into her pants.  She hated breast bands, instead she relied on the tightness of her leather armor to hold her body in place.  She pushed her arms through the sleeves and laced up the leather top, pulling each lace tight until the leather was snug against her body.

Next came her daggers.  A belt around her waist held two, one at each hip.  Another dagger was attached to her right thigh and another blade, a small dagger, was buckled onto her left bicep.  Her boots followed.  They were made of the same black leather of armor and the lacings up the front over her knees matched the lacings up the front of her armor.

The black armored warden stood in front of the mirror and smiled at her reflection.  Once her body was covered, the scars were hidden and she turned into the perfect specimen.  She wasn't sure if it was luck, skill, good healers, or a combination of all three, but her face lacked any of the scars that decorated her body.  Catte fastened the grey cloak around her neck and pulled the hood over her head.  Her body was as much a tool as her daggers or the blood that ran through her veins and so it remained covered until she could use it to its fullest extent.  Finally, Catte pulled on the short black gloves and fastened them at the wrists.

"Come on, Duncan."  She turned to look at him in the corner of the room.  "We have a meeting to go to."

Duncan lifted an eyebrow.  "I didn't realize we were expected."  He pushed off from the wall and crossed the floor to her.  He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently kneaded her flesh.  "Or even invited, Commander."  He couldn't hide the smirk on his lips.

"Duncan."  Catte's voice was filled with chastisement.

"I am allowed to show deference behind closed doors, even if you forbid it with others around."  He bent

down and kissed her forehead.  "Come, my little gutter mink, we don't want to be late."

She laughed and grabbed his cloak from the wall hook and tossed it to Duncan.

They left the inn through the back door and slipped easily through the darkness to the stables.  Catte had discreetly paid the stable boy to have their horses ready.  In silence they pulled themselves onto the saddles and nudged their horses into a walk.  Once clear of the outskirts of the town, safely away from the large ears of prying villagers, Catte turned to Duncan. 

"You ready?"

"To die?  Of course, dear Commander."

Catte took a deep breath, "at least we will die as Wardens, Duncan."

The two Grey Wardens rode their mounts hard.  They had to travel a large distance before arriving at Redcliffe, and they had to get to Redcliffe before the midday meal the following day.  The King and his son would be there and the initial confrontation would be less offensive without a traveling court acting as an audience.   The problem was that Wardens weren't exactly welcome in Ferelden and so they couldn't travel as easily as they could in the other lands where Wardens were respected and even held in esteem.  Maric had invited the Order back into Ferelden, but he was one of the few Ferelden who didn't have an immediate distrust for the Grey Wardens.

Catte planned on changing that.  Born to two Grey Wardens who were Ferelden she somehow managed to keep her first duty to the Wardens while simultaneously maintaining her loyalty to Ferelden.  A Warden giving birth was rare enough, but Catte was rarer still in that both of her parents were afflicted with the curse of their order.  Her birth was the reason the Wardens raised her to a rank of something similar to an Empress, if the Wardens had a land of their own  The Wardens believed her to special, and despite being raised as normal as one can be in a Warden keep, she believed herself to be born for a greater reason than just leading the Wardens.  

By all rights she should have been in Weisshaupt and honored as the First Warden, but she refused to give up on Ferelden and turned her back to the title.  Instead she demanded a placement in Ferelden with a single intention: elevating the Grey Wardens to their stature of old, before they were exiled from the county.  Catte was born without a name, as both parents had given up theirs upon joining the Wardens, and bowed to no King or Queen.  She wasn't handicapped by any previous understanding, experience or loyalty to rank and title, it meant nothing to her and Duncan privately thought that it would be the only reason she might be successful in her current goal.

Somehow they managed to nap in the saddle, trusting their mounts to keep to the known path and not wander off.  Life as Wardens in Ferelden honed their survival skills, both in battle and in day to day matters, such as sleeping and eating on the move.

Their mounts covered the ground faster than they expected and they rode up upon Redcliffe as sun was just about to rise.  Without a word, both riders pulled the horses to a stop and quickly dismounted before they could be spotted.  Catte led them deeper into the woods until she found a satisfactory clearing.  She quickly stripped the tack from her horse and hobbled him before sending him off with a swat to his massive hind quarters to graze.  She grabbed one of the saddle packs and looked at Duncan while he set up a makeshift camp and saw to the horses' need for water.

"I'm going to wash off a bit before changing.  No need to reek of horse and sweat."

"You never know, he might like the reek of horse and sweat."  Catte rolled her eyes at his comment, but stayed silent.

Catte peeled off the black leathers and boots until she stood by the side of a small creek in only her linen shirt.  She could still hear Duncan back at the clearing as she bent down and sluiced water over her skin.  The dust melted from her skin and was satisfying despite being unbearably cold.   With a few final splashes of water to her face she smoothed her fingers over her head.

She turned and smiled when she stopped hearing Duncan's noises in the background.  "Have you come to help me prepare?"

Duncan didn't respond instead he reached for the pack and pulled from it her formal Warden armor.  It was commissioned in Antiva, made from leather dyed bright blue with a white suede emblem of her rank inlaid on the front.  Each wing from the pair of griffons extended up over her breasts, with their heads nestled just beneath.  The armor looked to be more decorative, but the mages of Tevinter had ensconced it with both protections and enchantments that enhanced her skills with her daggers.

Duncan knelt on the ground and held the leggings open for her.  Catte rested her hands on his shoulders and stepped into the pants.  He pulled them up slowly, watching as the leather slipped over her skin, stretching tightly over her taut muscles.  The armor hid nothing from view and Duncan took a deep breath as his hands slipped up the outside of her thighs to rest on her hips and gave her a quarter turn.  He pulled the sides close together and fastened the buttons together.  He sat back on his heels and took the top portion of the armor from the pack. 

Duncan looked up at her and grinned.  "I don't think your linen is meant to be worn under this, Catte."

She lifted an eyebrow at him before pulling the linen up over her head.  She reached out her arms for him to slide the sleeves over them.

"Turn."  Duncan gently pushed until her back was too him and then began to tighten the laces up the back.  The armor was cut like a gown, corseted at the waist and a neckline that was low enough to accentuate her pushed up her breasts.

Catte pulled him up when he finished.  "What do you think?"  She turned around in front of him.

"Ferelden won't be ready for what's about to hit them."  He moved to the creek and started to rinse off himself.

Catte sat on a fallen log and pulled the blue boots up over her knees, fastening the  buckles along her calves.  She looked up at him from her perch.  "Duncan?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay with this?"  She asked his back.

Duncan looked over his shoulder at her, "Catte."  His tone was clear. 

They had already had the discussion several times over and his answer wasn't going to change.   It was inevitable that they would become lovers when she made her intentions with Ferelden known to him.  They began training together to determine the best way to maximize their skills without exposing too many of their weaknesses to their enemies.  He was concerned when she came to his bed the first time.  For the most part Wardens didn't have the luxury of monogamous relationships and when they did, it was usually against the advice of their brothers and sisters.  Relationships were almost always destined to end badly so it was easier for everyone to not have to deal with the emotional fallout.  And despite the maturity of her self-appointed task, Catte was barely nineteen years old.  She was too young to fully comprehend that sharing a bed with someone didn't have to mean more than sharing a bed.

She stood up and added her daggers.  "Do you need help with your armor?"  They had decided together that Duncan would wear his more formal armor which meant heavy plates on his chest.  She didn't wait for his answer and instead headed back to the clearing with the now near empty pack in her hand.

After the final buckle had been tightened and the armor was snug against his chest she stepped back to examine the results.  She took a deep breath and pulled the two amulets she wore free from the confines of her tight armor.  She pushed the vial of blood back into her cleavage and let the griffon hang free.  It was to be a gift and it would destroy her carefully constructed performance if she had to fumble with it at the time.

Duncan placed the white cloak edged with dyed blue fur around her shoulders.  "Warden Commander, I believe your audience awaits."  He wanted to kiss her cheek for reassurance, but instinctively knew that until she became more sure of herself, any intimate gesture would be taken for more than what it was.

They gathered the horses and quickly saddled them and then mounted.  They broke from the clearing, back to the road and stopped for one more moment.  Both Grey Wardens looked at each other and nodded their  heads in agreement.  Without a word, they nudged their mounts into a smooth lope and charged up  the path that led to the castle that housed the Arl and Arlessa of Redcliffe and  was temporarily hosted the King and Prince of Ferelden.

The guards were surprised at their charge, but weren't fast enough to respond and Duncan and Catte came to a spinning stop at the base of the stairs.  Without a word, they charged up the stairs and pushed through the massive doors even as the guards chased after them.  Catte strode into the great hall and stopped once she was certain that every single eye in the room was on her.  She placed her hands on her hips and the cloak fell back over her shoulders revealing the full effect of her attire to the room.  Duncan noted that Maric's gaze was focused on the portion of Catte's anatomy the armor was cut to accentuate.

The guards had finally managed to respond and were closing in on the two Wardens, but Maric raised his hand and waved them off.  Despite their confusion, they obeyed their King and left the Hall.  His lips curled up into a half smile, curious to see what was about to transpire.  Duncan's eyes moved around the room and once he spotted the one person in the room he didn't expect to see, he used subtle signals to guide Catte's attention to the five year old boy pressed back against the wall.

Catte didn't need any more of a hint and crossed the room with incredibly slow and deliberate steps.  She wasn't about to lose her audience once she held their rapt attention.  She finally stood in front of the young boy and knelt down so that she wasn't looming over him.

"Let me look at you, boy."  She smiled and gently squeezed his shoulders.   Despite looking clean and well taken care of, there was something hidden behind his eyes.  His body was frozen, but his eyes moved around as if he was fearful of being punished for her actions.  She smiled sadly at him and gently kissed his forehead.  "Go and play in the armory with the prince, Alistair."  She looked up at the adults in the room.  "The grownups need to talk about things that will only bore you."

Catte's gaze was locked onto Isolde as she spoke, but the arlessa was either too stupid or too proud to realize that the woman looking at her was planning a painful example in humility.  Duncan ushered the two boys out the room and leaned against the archway.  He crossed his arms over his chest and created a look of what he hoped was nonchalance.

She slowly pressed up until she was standing and stalked her prey.  One long leg in front of another, head tilted to the side, and fingertip running up and down the length of the dagger – all warning signs to anyone with a bit of sense, but then no one ever claimed that Eoman's wife had sense.

The arlessa looked around the room, confused as to why this intruder was still present, and even more confused that she knew the brat's name.

When Maric opened his mouth to speak, she held up a finger and silenced him with a single sentence.  "I will deal with you afterwards."

Isolde finally snapped out of her silence and the shrill shrieking in the Orlesian accent caused Catte to lower her shoulders and pull the dagger out.

"Shut up."  Catte spun her dagger on her fingers.

Isolde didn't heed Catte's command and so her shrieking became higher, demanding to know just who Catte was and how dare she speak to her in such a way, much less the King of Ferelden.

Catte took one more step towards the Arlessa, "If you can't learn to keep your mouth shut, then perhaps I will have to find a simpler way of keeping your stupid mouth quiet."  She looked over at the Arl, "and I promise you, my way will leave you wishing you had listened to me at the start."

"Just who do you think you are to speak to me in this way?!  Eaomon, do something, how can you let her speak to me in such a way!"

The Arl of Redcliffe had enough sense to look to his king for guidance, and when Maric didn't protest, he wasn't about ready to start.  Eaomon, tried to place his hand over Isoldes hand to quiet her, but it failed to have the soothing effect he had hoped for.

It took Catte three steps and she was in font of Isolde holding a dagger to her throat.  "I warned you."  The dagger shut Isolde up.

Eaomon jumped to his feet.  He couldn't not do anything when a strange woman held a dagger to his wife's throat.  He recognized Duncan and knew he was a Warden, so he assumed that the woman was also a Warden.  Since her immediate attention went to the boy he realized that what happened next might not be healthy for anyone in the room.  He didn't know what he was going to do, but he figured he had to do something.  Unfortunately that something was limited, he realized he didn't know what to do after her stood up.

Catte leaned in even closer so that her lips were barely touching Isolde's.  "I am the Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, and I hearby invoke the right of conscription."  Catte straightened up and grabbed Isolde's bicep.  She took far more pleasure than she should have at the way Isolde opened and closed her mouth over and over again, like a fish thrown onto the deck of a boat.

Catte dragged Isolde back across the room and pushed her into Duncan's restraining grasp.  He was smart enough to keep Isolde's mouth covered, lest she got herself into any more trouble.

Once she was content that the bitch was taken care of, Catte turned her rage towards the king.  "How dare you.  We trusted you."

Maric stood up and crossed his arms over his chest.  He had decided that he had enough.  It was one thing to see the little minx go after the Orlesian bitch, but it was another thing entirely once her attention was focused on him.  Her spirit had definitely caught his attention not to mention her body.  He could see everything, and yet see nothing.

"You might have assisted us in the past, Maric and for that we are thankful, but that does not mean we will sit idly by while one of ours is treated so poorly."

"What could you possibly mean?  And I didn't realize that letting you back into our country extended to the assumption of the Right of Conscription."  Maric took a step towards her, wanting to close the distance between them.

"We might have our secrets, Maric, but those secrets are not between ourselves."  She matched his step and even though she had to look up to him now, he also had to look down at her.  She deepened her breath to further distract him.  "He is one of our own, and we have a responsibility to him.  Just as you do."

Isolde's eyes widened behind Duncan's hand with realization.

"I respected another's wishes, despite my own misgivings."  Maric's voice was soft.

Catte nearly lost her resolve.  Maric seemed to genuinely care and what was more, he seemed to be oblivious to the actual situation Alistair was living in.  Another deep breath, but this time it wasn't in an attempt to draw his attention to her breasts, it was to re-establish her resolve.  "What's stopping us from taking him?  Give me a reason why we should allow him to continue living here with those who clearly would rather that he wasn't around?"  Catte looked directly at Isolde as she spoke her last words.

"Because I am the King of Ferelden."

"And I am the Warden Commander of Ferelden."

"Which brings us to our second question, Warden Commander.  While I allowed you to re-enter our borders, I did not sanction the re-establishment of the order here."

Catte turned her attention back to Maric and she smiled slowly, almost feral like.  "No, but you will."

Maric was amused by her.  He had forgotten just how much he enjoyed the company of Wardens and what he thought to be their simplified life and the little blonde spitefire in front of him caused forgotten memories to resurface.  "Your confidence is…"  he paused a moment to find the best word that didn't reveal just how much she interested him.  "surprising."  Maric looked at Duncan then back to her.  "There are only two of you here."

"Yes, but I am about to make us three.  And you'd never actually deny us because you know that we will leave you to fend for yourselves during a blight.  We will let Ferelden die."  She knew that Duncan could hear the lie in her voice, but she hoped that Maric wouldn't be able to or her bluff would be called and she would have to fold her hand and walk away with her tail tucked between her legs.

"You don't add the third, and I give you your charter."  He might not particularly like Isolde, but he had enough guilt when it came to Eoman without adding the loss of a wife to an Order that would probably find a way to see her dead after a few hours.  Not that he really blamed them.

"I also get Soldier's Peak."  Catte put her hands back on her hips and pressed her shoulders back slightly.

"What's Soldier's Peak?"  Maric's eyes narrowed at her.

"Our former hold."  Catte smiled up at him, enjoying the negotiations.  She didn't expect him to be as direct as he was.  Maric was not the man she expected him to be, different from all of her assumptions of what the King of Ferelden would be like.  "It's remained hidden, and will remain hidden.  No one in Ferelden will need to know that we hold the land."

Maric furrowed his brow.  "So you get a keep and charter and I get her?"  He nodded to Isolde.  "That seems to be an agreement completely in your favor."

"And you get a Warden Commander at your disposal.  Think of it, Maric, the Banns are arguing about something small and petty and your Warden Commander makes a brief appearance to pass a message on to you, but your message to them will be clear."  She laid the trap in front of him.  All he had to do was take it.

"How can I trust that you won't be too busy doing other things when I need you."  Maric wasn't sure when it happened, but he realized that at some point, the room seemed to hold only the two of them.

"You'll just have to take the word of a Grey Warden."  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

"Of the Warden Commander of Ferelden?"  Maric dropped his arms.

Catte smiled at him and nodded her head slowly.

Duncan dropped his arms and stepped away from Isolde.  He reached into his belt pouch and tossed the item wrapped in blue silk to Catte.  She caught it without looking and gave it to Maric.  "You can reach me with this."

Maric ran his thumb over the surface of the item, but he didn't unwrap it.  "And do I get to learn the name of the Warden Commander of Ferelden?"

"Catte."  She turned to face Isolde who had scrabbled along the wall to Eoman once Duncan had released her.  "I won't complete the Right, however I will not rescind it."

Maric chuckled, "Fair enough, Catte."  He tested her name on his lips and liked the way it sounded.

Catte refocused her attention on Maric and grasped his right forearm with her right hand.  "So we have our charter and our keep?"

Maric tightened his fingers around her arm in response.  "And the Arl keeps his arlessa, and I get a Warden Commander."

"I won't play in your political games, Maric.  The Grey Wardens must be above that.  But I will make my presence known."

Maric tilted his head back and laughed.  He gave her forearm a gentle squeeze, "Done."

Catte liked the sound of his laugh.  After all of her dealings with him, she understood why it was that the Order held Maric as an ally.  She let her fingertips drag along the length of his forearm before gently pressing them against his wrist.  The intimate touch was subtle and invisible to everyone else in the room.  She dropped his arm and walked towards Duncan.  "Alistair, Cailan.  Come here." Catte shouted through the doorway.

The two boys fought one another to get to Catte first.  She wasn't like any other woman they had seen and though they didn't understand it and probably wouldn't for quite some time, they wanted to impress her.  Once more she knelt down.  "Alistair, no matter what you are told, trust that you will always have a home with the Wardens."  She pressed a hand against his cheek.  "Always."  She stared into his eyes until she was certain that he believed her.

Catte turned to Cailan.  She beamed a smile at him and took the amulet off.  She wanted to give it to Alistair after she saw him, but it was important that both father and son were enchanted with her so she continued with her original plan.  She put the amulet over his head.  "The Wardens swear to keep you safe.  So long as there are Grey Wardens in Ferelden, they will do their best to protect you from all dangers."

The young prince's eyes widened.  "You're a Grey Warden?  Do you have griffons?"

Catte smiled and winked at him.  "Wardens never tell their secrets."  She stood up gracefully and walked toward the door leading to the front gate. 

Duncan followed after her, nodding once at Maric before heading out the door.  They took their time getting their mounts ready,  if they were too far away the finale would be ruined.  Eventually enough time had passed that they couldn't stall any longer without looking silly.   Catte pulled herself up into the saddle and pulled her horse toward the path leading away from the keep.  With a quick glance at the keep, she nudged her horse into a trot.  Duncan was right behind her.

"They're watching, Catte.  Maric's even standing with them."   He urged his horse up next to her.  "Highever?"

"Mage's tower first." 

Duncan almost fell off his horse.  "How are you going to manage that?"

"There's still the matter of an encore."  As if on cue, they heard a boy's voice shouting behind them.

"Wait, Warden, wait!"

They stopped and turned their horses around to see the prince running to them.

"I want to be a Warden too!"

Catte grinned at Duncan, "this is how I'm going to get my mages."  She pushed her horse into a lope and raced to meet up with Cailan.  Just as she neared him, she bent down off to the side and wrapped her arm around his waist.  Cailan slid into the saddle in front of her and she took the opportunity to whisper into his ear.  "Hold tight, Cailan."

Everyone expected her to stop at the base of the stairs, but Catte was determined that Cailan would never forget the first time he met her.  With the slightest of urgings, the horse took each step without any hesitation.  She could hear Maric's laughter from inside the keep entrance where she finally stopped the horse.  Maric slipped in behind them.

She slid Cailan down to the ground.  "Unfortunately a Warden is a Warden first, and a King needs to be a King first.  You can't be both, Cailan."  She softened her refusal with a smile.

Maric nodded his approval when she looked at him.  "I know I will regret this, but for returning my son to me, I suppose I owe you a boon now.  What will it be?"

Catte smiled at him.  "Two mages."

"And do you have specific mages in mind?"  He ruffled the top of Cailan's head.

"No, but I'm sure the circle will have two ideal mages for me."

"Ahh Catte, at least you don't pretend to be anything other than what you are."   Maric looked to one of the guards.  "Quill, parchment, and ink."

After the King had scribbled his commands on the parchment and handed it to her, she smiled at him, "Just think, Maric, you haven't even seen everything."

Maric just smiled at her and walked completely into the trap.  Catte turned the horse and rode back out to Duncan.  They needed to grab their mages at the circle, head to Highever for a few more recruits Duncan had mentioned, and then make it to the Peak before Maric summoned her. They'd have to change mounts several times, but considering that the Royal court tended to travel more slowly than individuals on horses she might be able to see her keep before having to race to Denerim.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Catte, Duncan and their five recruits were at the point in the pathway where they needed to turn off the main road to find their way to their new home, Soldier's Peak, when the message came.  While their visit to the circle tower was quick, thanks to the King's missive, they spent more time than planned for at Highever.  The Couslands were kind and generous and Catte could not afford to offend an ally by turning away from them.  Catte had even sparred with the young Cousland children, letting the girl knock her to the ground and claim a victory.  Elissa was a sweet tot and Catte was enchanted by her chubby cheeks and sticky hands that were always reaching for Catte's calloused hands.  The little girl could spend hours studying Catte's hands.  The late start from Highever would mean that Catte wouldn't be able to cross the threshold into the Keep first.

Duncan spoke quietly while he watched her repack the mirror.  "He can surely wait a few days.  He doesn't need to know where you were or how quickly you can get somewhere."

Catte slowly shook her head from side to side.  "No.  Redcliffe was just the prologue.  This is the first act and I need to play my part as the obedient Warden Commander."

Duncan tossed a purse full of coins to her.  "We won't need this at the keep."

She added the sovereigns to her own purse.  "We'll have to start opening accounts soon."  Catte's grin was slight.  "And then I'll have to justify each coin spent to the First."

Duncan rolled his eyes.  The First Warden would never say no to her.  Of all the Wardens, only Catte had no one to answer to, but she never seemed to fully comprehend the power she held within their order.  There were occasional hints of how limitless Catte's power could be, but Catte was part of the equation, so she never had a chance to observe it.

"I figure that we might as get used to me rarely being here for the first few months.  Probably just as well that you start out commanding them."  Catte turned her mount and rode off.  The poor beast had been ridden hard, but he was bred to carry wardens and that meant he was used to a life that would have caused any other horse to fall from exhaustion.

The ride to Denerim was uneventful.  During the day they loped easily along the path and at dusk, Catte gave the horse time to rest while she fed herself and took a short nap.  Wardens often traveled on their own and nature insisted that they sleep, but when alone they never fully slept.  After a few hours rest, she cleaned up her makeshift camp and resaddled and mounted the horse.  He would keep a quick pace during the night, a fast walk that allowed her to continue to move in and out of rest without fear.  She repeated the process at dawn.  It wasn't so much that she needed the break in as much as the horse needed the rest.  He wouldn't make it to Denerim in one piece and Warden horses were expensive.  She couldn't afford to run a beast to lameness just to appease the desires of a King.  Even if it meant gathering his complete favor. 

In the end, she arrived at Denerim too early, it wasn't yet night and the gates were wide open.  She pulled off to the side well outside the walls of the city and debated changing into the formal blue armor.  After listing the pros and cons to the horse, who just stared at her while happily munching on the sweet feed the wardens blended specifically for their horses, she decided that looking travel worn and dusty would present a better picture than her formal regalia.  She napped once more and woke to the warm, soft nose of her horse snuffing her neck.

"Time already?"  The horse stomped a foot down on the ground impatiently.  With a reluctant sigh she pulled herself in the saddle and groaned to herself.  "We'll have to find a way to make this saddle a bit more comfortable."  Catte patted his neck affectionately and started riding to the city gates, preparing a speech in her mind that would get her through the gates.  It turned out that her rehearsal was unnecessary.  The city guards were either expecting her or lax.  She guessed the latter once she found herself facing the royal guards at the palace.   They refused her entry into the palace, even refused to send a message to the King.

The guards did allow her to stay within the courtyard, which bothered her from a security standpoint, but she had enough sense to realize that they probably didn't consider her a threat.  One young guard offered to take her mount to the stables, realizing that the beast was not the horse of a commoner, but not enough bravery to countermand the orders of his superiors by allowing her entry.  She nodded her thanks and sank to the ground once she saw the horse led into the stables.

Catte pulled her knees up to her chest and kept her feet flat on the ground.  Wrapping her cloak tightly around her form she rested her forehead against her knees.  Though quiet and unmoving, she was awake.  She couldn't allow herself to fall asleep.  It was a very long night, but she didn't move.  Her body would be angry with her, but this was the perfect opportunity to encourage the rumors and she wouldn't let it pass her by.  She continued her silent vigil until the morning, when the doors to the palace opened.

Catte looked up to see Maric standing at the threshold.   He angrily pushed his guards aside and strode forcefully towards her, much the way she strode into Redcliffe Castle.  She smiled and pushed herself to her feet.

"Have you waited all night?"  The King glared behind him at the guard.  "Why didn't you have someone send for me?"  He finally turned all of his attention onto the Grey Warden and took in her state.  Catte was covered in dust from the road and she looked exhausted.  "Have you been on the road since I called?"  He didn't wait for her to answer any of his questions, instead he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and guided her into the palace.  Before crossing through the door he stopped and looked at the guards.  "This is the Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden and she is always welcome through these doors at any time.  The Theirins will never be accused of turning their backs to the Wardens.  Is that understood?"

If the guards responded, neither Warden nor King heard them.  Maric was leading her through the great hall into one of the side hallways that lead to the private royal chambers.  She expected as much, but she had to at least protest.  "Maric, as I understood it, the Wardens have an apartment in one of the wings housing the lower nobles.  Surely that will be satisfactory for me to clean up before you tell me why you had need of me.  Unless of course your need is more urgent?"

Catte smiled as she noted that the tips of Maric's ears turned pink.

"The hospitality of the courtyard is unacceptable, and I will not have it said that the King of Ferelden was anything but gracious to the Wardens."  He almost growled the words and for a brief moment Catte had a pang of guilt in her stomach.  She had manipulated the situation to elicit the most sympathy from the king, not to embarrass him.

"Very well, if the King of Ferelden wishes it, who I am to refuse?"  While she didn't respond to her arm around her shoulder, she didn't pull away.

"When I heard you were here, I sent for the servants to prepare a bath and for breakfast to be brought to my study." They stopped in front of a doorway and Maric gently pushed her forwards.  "This is the Warden Commander.  She is never to be denied entry into my apartments." 

They entered the study antechamber, and Catte glanced around the room, finding herself approving of the sparse furnishings.  The lack of comfort would keep visitors at bay, something she herself would need to keep in mind when she returned to Soldier's Peak and claimed her rooms.

He took her elbow and guided her into his study.  In response to the sight of food set on the table, she couldn't keep her stomach from growling.  Maric had seen a Warden's appetite before and knew that even if she hadn't been traveling she would still be hungry.   He waved to one of the chairs, and she was already piling food on her plate before sitting down.  Maric watched with unhidden amusement as she stuffed generous bites of cooked eggs, toasted bread, and fried meat into her mouth.

He leaned back in his own chair and watched her eat, occasionally taking a bite of some of the food.  "So tell me, Catte, how is it that you can eat like you do, but still look," he paused for a moment to acknowledge the shape of her body beneath her leather armor, "like that?"

Catte smiled up at him, her mouth full and pressing against her cheeks.  She took a moment to finish chewing and used the moment to unfasten the cloak, letting it fall to the seat of the chair before responding.  "Warden secrets."

As if on cue, they heard a door open and looked to the study door.  Catte figured it would be Loghain and silently prayed that the old general would not insist on remaining close to the King's side.  Her prayers rewarded her not with the sight of Loghain Mac Tir,  but instead the sight of the young prince.

"Is it true, father?"  Cailan skidded to a halt in front of the table and stared at Catte.  "It is!  Warden!."  The indulged prince climbed into a chair and sat down uninvited.  "Are you here because there's a blight?  Is there an archdemon?  Have you found something about the darkspawn?"  The ten year old boy continued with his questions.

Catte took a long drink of coffee and looked at the King for a moment, wondering first how he knew of her weakness for the bitter drink and second how he got his hands on it.  After a few moments she decided it wasn't important and instead turned to Cailan.

"Warden secrets, Cailan."  She winked at him.  Then sadly, almost as an afterthought, Catte whispered, "In war, victory.  In peace, vigilance.  In death, sacrifice.  I'll let you decide my motivations for being in Denerim."

Cailan wasn't about to be dissuaded.  For whatever reason, he was drawn to the shiny object on her cloak and slipped from his chair to examine it more closely. "What's this?  Why do you have it?  It matches my amulet.  What does it do?"

For the moment, Catte gave up on her food and looked down at Cailan.  "It's the mark of my rank.  For the most part, Wardens have no formal hierarchy like your army, but there has to be someone to make decisions and that happens to me."  She put the cloak and brooch on the table and looked at the two griffons back  to back facing outwards.  With her right hand she covered the griffon facing towards the right.  "When you see this, this means Warden."  She removed her hand, revealing the second.  "This means Warden Commander."

Cailan grinned at her.  "You're the Commander of the Wardens?"  He turned to his father.  "She's a general, just like uncle Loghain?"

Maric grimaced, but camouflaged it behind the wiping of his mouth.  Loghain was not fond of the Wardens and likening the brash young woman to the solid older general would cause problems.  "Wardens aren't an army, Cailan, and their commander isn't their general, she's their leader."  Maric looked up at Catte as he spoke.  "Their Commander is more like a Teryn, or even a King."  Maric rose from his chair and ushered Cailan out of the study, "The Commander and I have much to discuss, Cailan.  Perhaps we can find time later for you to speak with her, but I do believe you have your own studies to attend to."  He pushed his son from his rooms and returned just as quickly to his guest.  He was pleasantly surprised to see her returning to the mountain of food in front of her.

"The bath I had prepared should be ready.  If you want, I'll have your armor washed and polished while your bathing."  He glanced around.  "I don't see any bags with you?"

"Thank you.  My formal armor is still in my pack on my horses saddle, but I think my usual leathers are probably more appropriate for this visit."  Reluctantly, Catte pushed away from the table and stood up.  "The bath?"  Now that her stomach was full, the idea of a bath and removing the dirt from traveling was something she couldn't resist.

Maric nodded his head toward the closed door behind her.  He watched her turn and slink, he couldn't decide a better word to describe the way she moved, silently through the door.  He noticed that she didn't close the door tightly behind her and as it slid slightly more open on quiet hinges, he could see glimpses of her naked back as she stripped off the leather.  He couldn't, nor did he really want to, pull his eyes away from her form.  He noticed the way her muscles rippled beneath her skin and the pale scars decorating her tan skin.   He finally forced himself to look away before he pushed through the door and held her naked body in front of his gaze until he was sated.  That moment would have to wait until later.

The king went to the main door of his apartment and called for servants, one to clear the table, another, a woman, to slip into his bed chamber and get the Warden's armor so that it could be cleaned.  He sent a page to the stables to find her bags.  She might not be interested in wearing her formal armor, but he very interested in it and surely the Warden wouldn't deny him the favor of donning the enticing leather gear if he asked nicely.  Once the servants were on their way with their appointed tasks, he gave his chamberlain a final command.  The king was not to be disturbed for any reason short of the palace being on fire.  No one, not even his son, was to be allowed entry.

Instead of reading up on requests and complains, Maric went to a bookshelf and pulled from it a book written about the Wardens.  He knew that they Wardens were exiled after they had attempted to overthrow a king, but he wanted to learn more and hoped the history would reveal more of the legend to him.  It was frightening that only a few hundred Wardens could nearly defeat an entire King's army and was hoping to find a hint of how they managed.  He realized that he had been reading for quite some time when a quiet tap at the door, quickly followed by the noise of it opening and closing, grabbed his attention.  He strode into the antechamber, prepared to punish whomever had broken his order.  Instead he saw Catte's polished armor, both the formal bright blue leather and the black leather she arrived in next to her pack.  For a moment he was surprised, realizing that the amount of time to clean and polish the armor was more than long enough for the woman to have finished bathing.  He brought her armor into his study and placed it on empty stands, and put her pack at the base of one of the stands.

Maric knew enough of the Wardens to understand that modesty wasn't exactly a concern and virtue was a luxury the Order didn't necessarily indulge in.  He pushed the door to his bedroom open and was rewarded with the sight of Catte sound asleep in the bathtub.  The water had no doubt lost some of its heat and from the way her nipples were hard and tight above the water line, it was probably bordering on being cool.  The king was still wearing his casual clothing from the morning, so without any boots on, he moved quietly towards her side with the intent of gently waking her.  As he drew closer to the bath and he saw her body beneath the water he actually had to control his breath.  His tight breeches grew even tighter and he shifted in adjustment before bending down to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, fighting the urge to wake her in any other way.

Just as his fingers brushed across her shoulder, he felt wet fingers wrap around his wrist and his body being pulled into the bath with her.   He should have known better.  Without her armor she had seemed almost soft and the fact that she was probably a better fighter than he was had left his thoughts.  She still had a hand on his wrist and was sitting up, her long hair wet and slicked back from her forehead.  He couldn't stop staring, but silently thanked the maker for the lack of modesty the Wardens had.  She didn't try to hide her body from his gaze, instead she knelt in the bath, half in the water, breathing heavily.

"Maric."  The sight of him in the bath surprised her as much as it surprised him.  "I am.. I must have…"

He stopped her with a laugh.  "My own fault, thinking I could wake a Warden without consequence."  He pulled his arm with her hand attached towards him until she was kneeling between his legs.  "Although, Catte, I am fairly certain that this attack on the King of Ferelden might lead to more interesting future negotiations."  His thumb brushed over a nipple and he watched her face.  He noted the way her lips parted, the way her pupils grew larger and the subtle shift in her body as she involuntarily moved closer to him.  He figured that he was close to twice her age, but he didn't really care at that point.  He just knew that he wanted her, he wanted another taste of a Warden, and the chance to replay the past and make different choices.

He didn't give her time to recover, his hands reached for her head and he pulled her lips to his, kissing her with as much hunger as she showed when they broke their fast earlier.  Awkwardly he stood up and pulled her with him, but didn't stop kissing her.  He pulled her up into his arms and stepped out of the bath.  He crossed the room to his bed and gently threw her down.  He smiled at the way her breasts bounced, the way her legs parted just enough for him to see that the wetness between her thighs wasn't from the bath alone.

Maric stared into her eyes while he stripped off the wet clothing, leaving it in a pile on the ground.  He knew that he wanted her in his bed when he first saw her in Redcliffe, but he had planned for a long seduction, for her to come to him.  The more he saw of her body though, he realized that it didn't matter what he planned, what mattered was what he wanted and what he wanted was to feel his cock inside of his little warden commander.  He realized that once she gave him the mirror, once she agreed to come when he called that she was going to be his and if he could figure out a way to get her to agree, only his.

The tip of her tongue moistened her lips and Catte pushed herself up onto her knees, moving towards him until her lips brushed against the head of his cock.  The same urge that overcame Maric when he decided to fuck her in the bath, overcame him as he felt her warm breath.  His fingers wrapped around her wet hair and pushed past her unresisting lips.   There was no gentleness in the way he used her mouth and when she looked up at him, her lips tight around the base of his cock, her tongue pressing up against the underside, he lost all restraint, pulling her head roughly until he felt his cock slip down her throat.

Maric fought against every urge to come in her mouth and with great reluctance and a rumbling growl, he pulled her away slowly.

There had been women since Fiona, but none who he saw more than a few times, and Catte saw a flash of sadness pass over his eyes.  She reached out and took Maric's hand in hers.  Gently, she pulled him towards her until he was on the bed with her.  Maric might be an older man, but he was a soldier first and his muscles were prevalent over the breadth of his chest and back.  She ran her fingers through his dark blonde hair, so similar in color to his two sons, she wondered how no one knew that Alistair was his.

Catte whispered in his ear, "your Majesty?"  Whether it was the use of his title or her gentleness, she didn't know, but he broke from his daze as quickly as he entered it.

Maric took one of her hands and pulled it up over her head, placing it against the headboard.  He did the same to her second arm and then gently slid her body down the bed until she was stretched taut.  He dragged his fingers over her body, tickling her ribs under her breasts, teasing the point where her hip bone jutted up before finally landing at the inside of her thighs.

She watched him with bright green eyes.  He hadn't noticed the color of her eyes before and it startled him for a moment.  He knew she was young, even if she had been named the Commander, younger than Duncan, but her eyes were old.  They weren't looking at him, they were looking through him and he felt like she could see every one of his regrets.  The corners of Catte's lips turned up in an almost feral smile and she arched her back, thrusting her breasts up towards him.  At the same time she opened her legs to his tantalizing fingers.

She didn't speak to him, but Maric understood her language clearly.  'I will not be a regret.  Trust me.'

He didn't need another invitation and with the same ferocity he used to fuck her mouth, he push her legs open further and without care or thought for her pleasure, he pushed  himself into her.  He was pleasantly surprised to feel just how wet her pussy was.  With each hard thrust up into her, she pushed down on the headboard of the bed, matching his force. 

Neither Catte nor Maric spoke.  They moaned and grunted and yelped, but no words were used.  Whatever they felt for one another was hidden behind a wall of visceral want.  Maric wanted a Warden, he wanted a replacement for what he had lost and Catte wanted a King to help re-establish the Grey Wardens in Ferelden.  But at that moment, they also wanted each other.

Catte had studied up on Maric before their first meeting and just as she was able to recognize his sadness, she also knew that he never could fall in love with her, he was in love with another woman long dead.  She was a substitute for another substitute and only an acceptable substitute because of what she was.  But it didn't matter to her.  All that mattered was having a King of Ferelden supporting her ambitions and that meant giving him what he needed.  She felt his body tense and with the same reluctance Maric showed when he pushed her mouth away from him, she pushed him out of her.  However, before he could protest she turned over on to her stomach and pressed herself up to her hands and knees.  Catte looked over her left shoulder at him and wiggled her hips teasingly.

Maric didn't need any more clues.  His fingers grabbed her hips and dug into her flesh.  As soon as the head of his cock pushed past the lips of her pussy for the second time, she dropped her shoulders to the bed and lifted her hips even higher. 

Maric sucked his breath in through his teeth.  "Maker!  You are making this difficult for an old man, you little minx."

She laughed into the pillow.  "You are hardly an old man, if anything…" Maric pulled out completely and rammed back into her, effectively silencing her as her next word was disguised as a loud moan.

His hands slid down to her stomach and one hand snaked up her stomach to her chest, he used the leverage to pull her up so that her back was pressed against his chest.  Somehow they managed to keep their legs in a position where he wouldn't slip out of her, and his hand on her chest went to her shoulder.  He pushed her down, controlling her up and down motions.  His free hand found her clit once they had settled into a smooth motion.

He nipped at her neck, moving his lips to her ear.  "I want you to come for me, my little Warden Commander."  His fingers on her clit became more insistent in their rubbing and she pressed back against him, feeling her body respond involuntarily to his words.

When he felt her pussy tighten around his cock he intensified the attention being paid to her clit.  Catte closed her eyes and bounced up and down.  Maric chuckled at her youthful exuberance and once he felt her pussy flutter around him he pushed down hard on her shoulder.  Instead of using the friction from thrusting into her he used her body's response to him.  He held her tightly in place against him and forced her stillness despite her body's desire to thrash against him.

Maric closed his eyes and whispered in her ear again, knowing he was too close to pull back, "come little Warden Commander, come with me."

The warmth of his breath, the timbre in his voice, the way he held her, the way his cock throbbed inside of her, she could do little but obey.  Maric breathed out and even after they had both climaxed, he held her close against him.  His planted kisses on her neck and jaw before slowly letting her separate from him.

Catte stood on slightly wobbly legs and made to head for the bath with the intention of wetting one of the towels to clean them off.  However Maric had other plans and he wasn't about ready to let her escape so easily.  His strong hand reached out and grabbed her wrist pulling her back onto the bed.

"No, my little Warden Commander.  You stay right here."  He laid down on the bed on his side and pulled her back so that she was sitting and leaning against his stomach.

Catte lifted an eyebrow. "Are you planning on keeping me naked in your bedroom, Maric?"

He propped himself up on his elbow and pulled the nipple closest to him into her mouth, biting gently until she rewarded him a little gasp before he released her.  "No, although that idea does have merit."  With another kiss to her breast he slipped off the bed and headed to the wardrobe against the wall.  He opened it and pulled out dry clothes for himself and a shirt for her.  Maric tossed the white cotton shirt to her and started dressing himself.  "Wear that."

She pulled the shirt on and looked down as she started to pull the laces together at the neck.

"No.  Leave it unlaced."  Maric was fastening the waist of his breeches and looking at her.  His grin dared her to defy him.  And for a brief moment she almost did, just to see his response, but decided she would play along with him instead.  Catte sat at the edge of the bed and watched him finish dressing. 

The intimacy of the scenario wasn't lost on either of them.  Catte watched him pull a deep red shirt over his head and she stood up and crossed the floor to him.  She reached up and carefully pulled the laces at the neck until they were fastened appropriately.  Maric took her hands in his and kissed the palms of her hands before dropping them to her sides.  He pulled the cuffs of shirt and began to roll them up.  She looked down almost shyly, feeling very naked despite the fact that the bottom of the shirt hung down close to her knees, especially with Maric completely dressed.

"It's time for lunch, I think."  Maric lifted her chin and kissed her.

Catte followed Maric back into the study, feeling the stickiness of their come on her thighs  as she walked.  She could also smell the distinct aroma of sex on her.  She combed her fingers through her hair and watched the broad shoulders of the king.  Maric pressed her into the chair she had sat in during breakfast.  Catte found her cloak and pulled the pin off of it.  She pulled her hair into three strands and quickly braided it while Maric went to the door leading out of his apartments to speak to the chamberlain.  She tucked the end of the braid up and pinned it in place.

"I told them to put together whatever they could find, since I figured you'd be hungry."  Maric sat down in the chair next to her.

"And you aren't?"  She lifted her eyebrows at him, "I supposed that means I'll have to work harder then."

Once again, Maric found himself laughing.  There was something about the bluntness of Catte that he enjoyed.

"So are you going to tell me what you needed me for? Or are you going to make me guess?"  Catte pulled her legs up onto the seat and the bottom of the shirt pulled up enough to show off her thighs.

"I wanted to see if you would honor your word."  Maric leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

"You doubted the Wardens?"  She tilted her head to the side and looked at him, "No, Maric, you doubted me."

"Do you blame me?"  He clasped his hand behind his neck.

"No, I don't."  She wrapped her arms around her waist.  "I would probably do the same."

When the knock at the door came, he was tempted to call for whoever it was to enter, but thought better of it.  He wasn't ready yet to let others look at her.  He moved into the antechamber and returned almost as quickly with a trey filled with bread, cheese, meat and wine.  He put the trey on the table in front of Catte before he retrieved the work from his desk.   Once more he took the chair next to her.  Maric set the documents on the table in front of him.  He poured them some iced wine and watched her studious labors of building a creation of meat and cheese held between two pieces of bread.  He noted the way she stuck the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth and the tiny crease between her eyebrows.

"Catte?"

She didn't bother to look up from her work.  "Hmm?"

"How old are you?"  He figured she was old enough, but at that moment she looked very young and his entire body began to sweat.

"I'll be twenty soon."

Maric covered his eyes with his hands, why hadn't he asked her sooner.  He was very nearly twice her age.  "How soon?"  For some reason twenty seemed better than nineteen.

She looked up at him and took a bite of her creation, answering him with a full mouth.  "Next year."  She saw the blood leave his face and quickly swallowed, having to drink several gulps of wine to push the food down her throat.  "Does his majesty have a problem with the age of his little Warden Commander?"

He heard the laughter in her voice and the mocking of her choice of words.  "You weren't a…."  he hesitated and she filled in the missing word.

"A virgin?"  She actually laughed.  "Gods, no, Maric."

He suddenly had a desire to finish the glass of wine and poured himself another one.  When he finally put the goblet down, he saw that she was holding her creation out to him.  He leaned in and took a bite, watching her.  She smiled at him and leaned across the space separating them to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"Maric, you didn't take advantage of me, your title doesn't impress me, and if I hadn't wanted to lay with you, I wouldn't have.  I could have stopped it at any time and if I had, chances are you would either be dead or unconscious.  Since you are very much alive and awake and sitting near me, I think we can assume that I neither wanted nor had any inclination to stop you."   She grinned and leaned back in her chair.

He couldn't resist her.  It might have been the years of being alone, it might have been her personality, or maybe it was that she made Cailan happy, something he had failed at.  It didn't really matter when he started to think on it.  Maric reached for her and pulled her into his lap.  Her food fell apart, landing on her lap with her protests.   He reached for a piece of cheese and gently pressed it between her lips to silence her.  Despite the mess she managed to rebuild her meal as he pulled her back against him, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her in place.  With his other hand he picked up the topmost document and started reading.  When Catte finished eating she curled up against his chest and closed her eyes.  Maric hadn't even finished reading the first page of the proposal for the Alienage when she fell asleep.  He kissed the top of her forehead and let her sleep.

Maric was almost through with the stack of documents when Catte woke up, stretching against him. Her body so close to his was enough to rouse his own desires and he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up so that she was sitting on the table.

His voice lowered to a near whisper, "take off the shirt."

Once again, she was tempted to challenge him, but something in his voice caused her to acquiesce to his demands.  She pulled it up over her head and once free from its covering she arched her back teasingly at him.

He held out his hand and she gave him the shirt.  "Open your legs."

Catte leaned back on her hands and spread her legs apart.  Maric just looked at her.   He studied her body, and despite her confidence, Maric's scrutiny slightly unhinged her.  Catte started to close her legs, but Maric pressed his hands against the inside of her knees and pressed them open.  He leaned back in his chair and returned to his study of her body.  Her breasts were full, but pert, still a young woman's breast.  Even the small amount of fat on her stomach was a reminder of her youth.  But beyond the nuanced hints of her youthfulness, she was very much a woman.

Maric opened his pants and pulled his hardening cock free.  He slowly stroked the length of his shaft while staring at her, shifting his gaze from her breasts to her pussy and back to her breasts.  "Come here."  

His command was a rough growl and Catte shivered.  She was enjoying the dichotomy of the smooth exterior of a jovial king with the rough man once they were in private.   She slid off the table and took the few steps to him.  Maric wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up, his gaze moving up to her eyes.  He pulled her into his lap and slid his hands down lifting her  legs up over the arms of the chair.  Once again he lifted her up and placed her down so that his cock pressed against the entrance to her pussy.  Once he was satisfied with her position, he laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back.

Catte looked at him, questioning his intentions with an expression of bemusement.

Maric chuckled softly at her perplexed look.  "It is all up to you, my little Warden Commander."

Catte didn't realize just how wet she was, but as soon as he spoke, she bent her legs so that her knees rested on the arms of the chair and pressed down.  It didn't take much before his cock was completely embraced.  She closed her eyes and started rolling her hips slowly, enjoying the feeling of fullness inside of her.

"Open your eyes, Catte and look at me."

She looked at him, her eyes heavy with lust and he groaned softly at her expression.  As loud as their earlier activities were, this attempt was nearly silent.   Their heavy breathing and soft moans were the only sounds in the room.   Catte  leaned forward and kissed him, pressing her tongue against his lips until they parted.  Maric still kept his hands off of her, but he did return the enthusiasm of her kiss.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and used her new found leverage to assist the movements of her hips.  Catte's fingers twisted around his blonde hair and she sighed against his lips.  She pulled her mouth away and rubbed her cheek against the rough stubble on his face, before kissing the length of his jaw.

"Maric?"  Catte continued with the whispering. 

The king turned to find her lips again, "hmm?"

"Touch me?"  Catte kissed him and was immediately rewarded with the feel of his hands on her hips.  While he didn't control her movements, he helped to guide the gentle swaying against his hips.

Maric had intended on letting Catte lead, but it seemed to becoming a habit with her around that all of his intentions were thrown out the window and this wasn't to be an exception.  He reached down and cupped her bottom before lifting her up and standing simultaneously.  She wrapped her legs around his waist and nearly purred against his lips.  Maric didn't break the kiss or their contact as he carried her to the couch near the fireplace.  As gently as he had picked her up, he lowered her down to the cushions and laid down on top of her.

Catte responded to his gentleness by lifting her hips, pushing him even further into her and Maric responded to her movements with a soft growl.  It was the way the sound rumbled through her lips, over her tongue and into her chest that caused Catte to loosen her restraint and let the sensations free.  She noted how the lacings of his pants rubbed against her clit, how his cock stretched her to the point of almost feeling too full.  She could even feel the gentle brushing of his thumb on her naked hip.  She closed her eyes tightly, arched her back and reached for his hands with her own.  Her fingers grasped his and her pussy constricted wildly around his cock.  As soon as her  body began to undulate beneath him, he too released his control.  He pressed against her as deeply as possible and stretched his back until he was almost leaning back.

After what felt like a shared eternity he collapsed onto her chest.  Catte wrapped her arms around him and drew abstract shapes along his back.

"Maric?"  Catte whispered.

"Yes?"  He pressed his lips against her collar bone before nuzzling her neck.

"Why are you dressed, but I am not?"  Catte couldn't hide the frustration from her voice.

Maric pressed up and looked down at her.  "I got carried away after I got a chance to admire my little Warden Commander's body."  He kissed the tip of her nose.  "Is something wrong?"

"No."  She smiled at his attentions.  "I just like the feel of you against me."

He groaned and returned his lips to her neck, feeling his cock twitch inside of her before finally softening enough to slip free from the embrace of her very wet and tight pussy.  "My little, Catte, you might just yet cause the death of me."

She laughed and stretched beneath him, "I can't think of a better way to die."

He peeled himself off of her and rearranged himself so that he could fasten his pants.  "Let's get you dressed and show off the Warden Commander to the petty little nobles of Ferelden."  He stood up and offered her his hand.

Catte took it and let him lead her to the armor stands.  She kept on walking towards the door to the bedroom, but he pulled her back and held her body against his.  He leaned his head down to kiss her, "no.'

She tried to pull away from him, but he held her more closely.  "I need to wash up, Maric."  She kissed him back.

"No.  For me?"  He kissed her chin and jaw before finding her neck again.  "When I stand next to you, I want to be able to think about our morning together and know that your sweet little pussy still has evidence of me fucking it."  He resorted to a growling tone and she melted against him.  "Wear the blue armor."  He bent down and bit the top of her breast, just above her nipple.  When he finally pulled his mouth away from her skin, he left behind an obvious mark.  Maric looked at her and placed his hands against her cheek, holding gaze to his.  "Mine."

She smirked at him.  "For now."

He raised an eyebrow and kissed her forehead.  "Get dressed, Catte."  He pushed her towards the armor stand with her formal armor.

Catte started with the leggings, pulling them up and jumping up to get the final bit past her hips.  She twisted and buttoned up the open side of the pants that made it possible to even put them on.  She grabbed the top and turned her back to him to slide it on.  "I need your help."  She shimmied the top into place and waited for his hands to work on the laces.

Maric chuckled while he tightened the lacing.

"What?"  She looked over her shoulder at him.

"Now I know why you didn't wear your formal armor, which probably would have gotten you through the front door last night.  You couldn't put it on by yourself."  He tightened the final segment and fastened the laces.

She turned around to face him, "now you know a Warden secret.  The Ferelden Commander can't get dressed by herself."  She placed her hands on her hips.  "What do I get in return for sharing that with you?"

"My promise not to tell another soul."  He grinned at her.  "I don't want competition for volunteers wanting to help you remove it."

Catte looked down and smoothed the creases from the leather.  She noticed that a portion of the bite mark Maric had left on her breast was visible.  He seemed to be going out of his way to make sure any male they ran into would notice the obvious signs of his claim.  She grabbed the matching blue boots and sat down to put them on.  She had a feeling that she was going to regret ever letting Maric see her in her formal gear.  Maric moved to the bedroom and she heard the wardrobe open and close while she completed dressing.  Catted belted her daggers into place and moved them around until the weight felt right.

"Catte," Maric called from the other room.  "Wear your hair down."

She rolled her eyes to herself, the king was definitely testing her limits.  She'd play along for the time being if it made him happy, and if she was honest she didn't really mind it.  Catte found her brush in her pack and walked into the bedroom, to use the looking glass.  Maric was standing in front of the wardrobe fastening a belt around his waist and she lost her breath for a moment.  She realized that she had never seen him dressed as the King and the effect was stunning.  No wonder the people of Ferelden loved him, he looked like everyone's idea of what a king should look like. Catte regained her composure and unfastened her braid.  She stood in front of the mirror and brushed out her damp hair.

Maric came up behind her and gently took the brush from her hand.  With an almost delicate touch he brushed her hair.  Catte studied his reflection, she made note of the way his face changed when he was concentrating on the task at hand.  He narrowed his eyes and held his bottom lip between his teeth.   When he decided that he was finished he put the brush down on table in front of the mirror and turned her around.   With the same gentleness he showed her hair, he kissed her forehead.

"Come on, my little Warden Commander.  I have an urge to show you off."  He took her hand and led her to the antechamber.  At the door he squeezed her hand before he let it drop.

The royal guards were well trained and didn't acknowledge the King with more than a salute of their fist to their chests.  The pair turned and headed to the hall.  Even if he wasn't holding court, the noble families in residence would gather there for gossip and games of cards.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic and potentially triggery.

After what felt like an eternity, the King and the Warden Commander had greeted and spoke with every noble in the hall. Catte was clearly bored. Wardens didn't deal with politics and with the exception of the High Constable and the First Warden, rarely played any of the unwritten courtly games.

They stepped out into the courtyard, Maric guiding her with his hand in the small of her back. "When do you need to leave?" He glanced over at the sons of the arls who were trailing after Catte like puppy dogs. For her part she ignored them.

"I can stay a few days. Unless you'd rather I headed out this evening?"

Maric let his fingers dip lower than her back in response. He stopped at one of he guards and spoke quietly to the man before continuing their walk. "So what do you want to see, Warden Commander?"

They kept a discreet enough distance from one another to quell any rumors. "I grew up hearing the tales of the Ferelden King's proficiency with a sword and shield. Perhaps he might be willing to give me an exhibition of his skills?"

Maric grinned at her. "Only if the Warden Commander is willing to demonstrate her own prowess with those daggers that draw attention to those delectable hips."

"That depends."

Maric lifted a brow and looked at her. "On what?"

"Whether she can tie her hair back?"

"I think that in this case, tying her hair back might be allowed."

Catte stifled the fluttering feeling expanding out from her stomach. Cailan was practicing with a squire in the training field when they arrived and they stopped to watch him. Once the young prince realized he had an audience, he broke from practice and ran to the fence line.

"Warden! Are you here to watch?" Cailan bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

Catte looked at Maric for a moment before responding. "I thought that I might spar with you before I spar with your father." She smiled at him. "That is unless you'd rather not."

Cailan couldn't believe his luck and charged back to the squire, pointing back at Catte. Maric reached into his pocket and pulled out the leather thong for her to tie her hair back.

Catte lifted a questioning brow.

"I wanted the option." He rested his forearms on the top of the fence and leaned forward. Catte vaulted over the chest high fence and trotted towards the prince. Maric shouted after her, "Don't you want pads?"

Catte turned to face Maric, but kept trotting backwards and spread out her arms to the side. "Warden secrets." She turned back around and he watched her approach his son. She pulled out her daggers and stood in front of the boy. She danced around, nimbly avoiding the swings of his sword, either by not being where he expected her to be or in one case bending back away from the blade.

Once she discovered his most obvious weakness, she went in for the kill and disarmed him. Cailan stared at her like she grown a second head.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because you loosen your grip after each wide swing and if you ever are in a fight, it won't take your enemy but a few moments to realize it and you'll find yourself without a sword." She pointedly ignored the look of betrayal on his face. "Pick up your sword, Cailan. Let's start again." She noticed the growing audience of guardsmen and squires along another fence line.

The prince didn't pick up his sword, instead snarled at her. "The Prince of Ferelden doesn't bend in front of one lower then him."

Catte's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Pick up your sword, Cailan."

"I am the Prince. You pick it up."

"Very well." She spun the daggers in her hands and kicked the sword away. She lunged for him and kicked his shield from his arm. He'd have a bruise, but she didn't think she caused any real damage.

"No fair, I didn't have my sword." The prince was not enjoying this spar in the slightest.

"That is not my fault, you chose not to pick it up." Catte swept out her leg and hooked it around his ankle, pulling it out from under him. Causing Cailan to land on his back. She took another step and stood over him.

Cailan glowered up at her. The prince was not happy with the events.

"Your foe won't care if you are prince, king, or Grey Warden, Cailan." She bent over him. "Perhaps, if I am still here tomorrow, we could try again?" Catte offered her hand to help him up.

When Cailan refused to respond to her invitation and ignored her hand, Catte shrugged her shoulders and walked toward the King. "Your men aren't doing your son any favors, Maric."

Maric watched Cailan. "I can see that." The king's eyes narrowed. "Stay for a week."

"Maric, I can't. I need to get back to the Peak, we have five new recruits and I can't leave it to only Duncan. It's not fair."

"Stay for a week." He repeated his demand, ignoring her excuse. "You know that even staying for the week, you still walked away with the better end of the deal."

"Are you saying that you will hold it against me if I don't stay?"

"No. I want you to spar with Cailan. He likes you. More than he likes me and…" Maric didn't finish his thought allowed.

"I'll think about it?"

Maric grinned at her, "that's better than saying you can't."

"Come on, your majesty, you promised to show me just how good you are with that sword of yours."

Maric bit back his response when he realized that an audience was growing. First the prince had been publicly chastised and now the King was going to spar with the Warden. Maric walked to the gate, and they headed into the salle. The King needed to get his practice gear.

Catte buckled the last of the pieces of plate into place and examined the results. Even in practice spars, there was a risk to injury if things weren't perfect.

"Are you sure you want to use, edged weapons, Catte?"

"I trust you won't run me through." She cursed herself when she saw his expression, forgetting a moment the fate of Katriel. "At least not until we're in private." She couldn't take the words back, but she could hide them behind innuendo.

He chuckled, "oh my little warden commander, if I didn't think that someone might walk in, I'd bend you over this armor stand right now."

"Maybe we'll have to sneak back out here when everyone's asleep." She winked and trotted out the door and into the field, expecting him to be follow behind her.

Their spar was very different from Cailan's (who was still lying on the ground). Instead of Catte looking for weaknesses, she was aggressive in her approach. She kept him on the defense and prevented him from gaining the upperhand, but she didn't think she could last long enough to tire him out when she was the one doing all the moving around. Most of the men around the Palace used swords, and for once watched her technique and not her body. Some of the more adventurous were already adapting some of her moves to two swords, and others were developing defenses to her attacks in their minds.

Cailan finally found a break and lunged for her. She backpeddled her feet, but couldn't keep up both her evasive maneuvers and forward attacks. Not unless she hid in the shadows and that was never considered fair in a spar. She was at a disadvantage and was moments away from yielding when Maric had her cornered against the wall. Catte suppressed the urge to climb up it. Everything that made her a strong rogue, made her a crappy sparring partner.

"Yield!" She bent down and rested her hands on her knees, taking deep breaths. She looked up at him and grinned. "Give me a minute and we go again?"

Maric lowered his sword letting his muscles relax, "of course."

They looked at one another and grinned. Sparring was fun when the partner wanted to win and wasn't afraid of it. Maybe it would be a good idea to stay for the week after all, she could get in some good practice with Maric and return to Dragon's Peak with some decent tips for the three warrior recruits.

"I went to the Deep Roads with Duncan, you know." He spoke through labored breaths.

"I know." She stood up and twisted her waist, stretching the muscles out in her back.

"I have my entire arsenal at my disposal. You're holding back." Maric's eyes narrowed at her. "I'd like to see how I'd fare against those skills we don't usually see in practice."

Catte looked at him, surprised at his request. She raised a finger while trying to come up with a response, for the first time she was genuinely rendered speechless by the King. She pointed to the audience, "only if you let them know that you're requesting it."

"Fair enough." He turned around and looked at the onlookers. "The Warden Commander has agreed to show me skills she uses in the field, but not in practice. It is at my request." Maric walked back towards the middle of the field.

"Ground rules?" She walked after him, already starting to re-evaluate her environment looking for advantages.

"I wouldn't know, this is new to me. What are your rules when you spar against Duncan?" He turned around to face her.

"No hidden strikes, no taking advantage of the shadows to avoid the spar entirely, only hits to the back are scores for me, and loser makes dinner." She didn't tell him what the winner got since she didn't think Maric would appreciate hearing about the motivating rule Duncan added to get her to work harder.

"Then we'll use those rules."

"No fair having your servants make the dinner." She spun a dagger on her finger before sliding it into her belt. She nodded her head to the side, Cailan was no longer lying on the ground, he was sitting up and watching them. "Win or lose, you carry your son's shield into the salle."

Maric nodded his head. "Done." He raised his sword, preparing to start the spar, expecting her to pull out her daggers. Instead, she just disappeared. He blinked his eyes and she was gone.

He spun around, disoriented without any visual cues. He sensed her before he actually saw her and spun in a half circle barely avoiding a dagger to the back. They lasted a long time, her blinking in and out of vision and him beginning to rely on his other senses to prevent her from scoring a hit. He discovered, almost to a distraction, that he could actually find her general area by how she smelled. She learned that the stories of his ability in the field weren't exaggerated. Were he not a King, he would have been a welcome member of the Wardens.

Eventually they circled one another, each covered in a sheen of perspiration and near exhaustion when she found her opening. With the small amount of energy she had left, she blinked out sight. He waited for his other senses, but Maric was too late to realize that she had slid between his legs, only noting the mark on the dirt when she was behind him and had her daggers pressed against his kidneys.

The onlookers gasped. Not because the Warden Commander had beaten the King, but how she had done it. As soon as her body cleared his legs, she flickered into view, but instead of turning around and losing her advantage she arched her back and pressed her body up. Catte's feet were flat on the ground, but her body was bowed back so that she could see where she was placing her daggers. From the sound of the audience, Maric almost regretted not being able to see how she had managed it.

She had her daggers back in her belt and was brushing the dirt off her legs. "You lasted longer than I thought."

Maric grinned. He wasn't used to losing, but then this didn't feel like losing to him. "Well done, Warden Commander!" His voice resounded around the yard.

She smiled at him, "when do I get dinner?"

He chuckled, "how about tonight? And then tomorrow you can tell me that you've decided to stay longer and we can make arrangements for a Court dinner." He looked at his son. "I have a task to tend to, and I believe that you have some admirers who would like to talk to you."

Catte accepted Maric's dismissal and walked away from him before he walked away from her. Father and son needed time alone for Cailan to learn from her earlier lesson and endearing the lesser nobleman's children to her wouldn't be wasted time.

After answering countless questions and deflecting several advances she noticed Cailan leaving the salle alone. He didn't look particularly happy, but Catte decided that any consolation from her could wait until tomorrow. She smiled at her admirers and deftly extracted herself from their invitations. The Warden Commander headed to the salle. She had expected Maric to walk out with Cailan and just as Cailan could wait until the following day, the King could not.

His back was to the door and she the brace against the door, locking it to anyone on the outside. She quietly approached him and remained silent while her fingers unbuckled the pieces of plate covering his back. She turned him around and started to work on the pieces across his chest.

Maric grabbed her wrists and held them between their chests before she could get the piece she was working on free.

"You beat me." Maric growled.

Cinn couldn't detect any of the desire that his earlier rumblings held. "Yes, I did." She looked up into his eyes and realization washed over her. This had nothing to do with her, their sparring, or beating him. This was something beyond her comprehension. But as much as she would never experience what Maric was experiencing, she understood that could be a temporary salve to Maric's hidden wounds.

He spun her around , pulling her arms behind her and pushed her over the stand used to polish armor. She was bent at the waist, staring at the floor with her wrists held together in the middle of her back. No teasing fingertips, no tickling, just his free hand unbuttoning her pants and roughly pulling them down to her knees. She heard his belt coming free and took a breath, willing herself not to struggle against what she knew was coming next. Maric needed this, and since she needed him, she would give in to it without the parodies of protest to keep him interested.

The leather cut into her skin, she even felt it through her armor. Her fingers flexed when she felt him wrap his belt tightly around her wrists, before he fastened it against her chance to pull free. When his foot kicked her legs apart until they strained against the confines of her pants at her knees, her lips parted involuntarily. She looked up, realizing belatedly that the salle held a mirror against one wall. It was an expensive luxury, but what better way to see your errors when learning the art of fighting. Catte closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see her body continue its oblivious betrayal.

The two times they had sex were not exactly gentle. There was always a hint of control and power lurking beneath his actions and words, but Maric had never just taken and there was always a hint of tenderness. This time was different. His fingers gripped her hips and without any preamble he thrust into her. His eyes widened as his cock slid easily into her. She was wet. His thoughts ran wild. She was more than wet if that was possible. He saw their reflections in the mirror and was overwhelmed by the image. He grabbed ponytail at its base and jerked her head back.

"Open your eyes." This time the growl was almost completely filled with desire.

Catte obeyed. She didn't bother to question why or to try to find the answer. He thrust into her, bruising her flesh wherever he touched her. Inside, outside, the skin on her hips, it didn't matter. She bit her lip to stifle any noises she was close to making. She wasn't sure if it would have been a scream or a moan.

He watched her face. They were both lost in their thoughts while he pounded against her. And when he saw a single tear escape from her eye to fall down her cheek, he came inside of her. He bent down and bit down hard on the back of her neck. She might not realize it yet, but the Warden Commander was his.

As quickly as he had entered her, he pulled free. With his hand still on her hair, he pulled her up and led her down until she was kneeling in front of him. His grip tightened and he used his free hand to guide his softening cock into her mouth.

"Look at me."

Her eyes were wet, but her mouth was eager as she tasted herself, his come, and his sweat. She cleaned him with her tongue, never breaking her gaze from his. Maric finally let go of her hair and stepped back, pulling himself free of her hungry mouth. He looked down at her while he tucked his cock back into his pants and refastened them. She knelt there, her breasts rising and falling against the confines of the leather armor with each breath, her legs open and the skin hidden by the wet curls was red and swollen. Her arms were still confined behind her back. He had his release, but he hadn't let her climax.

He moved behind her and unwrapped the belt first, his fingers were gentle against the tender skin. Maric kissed the bite mark on her neck, before he untied her hair so that it would be hidden away. Still she didn't move beyond the occasional shuddering of her body when he touched her. He helped her stand and crouched down to pull up her leggings, his fingers carefully worked the buttons up the side. He kissed her hip and noted her soft moan. She stood silent and unmoving, but watching while he removed the rest of his practice armor and refastened the belt around his waist. He took a step to her and brushed his thumb across her cheek before bending down to kiss her. Her lips felt familiar against his and parted willingly at the urging of his tongue. He pulled away from her mouth and kissed his way along her jaw to her ear.

Maric's breath was hot against her skin when he whispered and she almost melted against him. "I know who and what you are Catte, and until you realize it, you will not come "


	5. Chapter 5

Catte sat on a stool placed near the table in the center of the kitchen watching Maric slather butter on slices of bread before placing large chunks of cheese between each slice.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Positive. Just stick them in the pan, put it over the fire and then wait." She rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand. "When I first came here, Duncan and I existed on these for almost a month."

Maric knew that she could eat more than the little meal she had convinced him to prepare, so he handed her the rest of the loaf of bread and the bowl of butter. "How do I know when to flip them?"

"I'll let you know." Catte spoke around a mouthful of bread and grinned. "Do you think I'd let you ruin my meal?"  
The King eyed her for a moment before speaking. "I've had rooms set up for you in my wing. They will be yours permanently." He wasn't sure how she would respond after what happened in the salle. They had walked back to his rooms together and when they found Loghain waiting for them, she excused herself from the Teryn's glare and made an excuse about seeing to her horse. He couldn't blame her for wanting to escape, he had wanted to turn his back to the argument as well.

"Maric, the apartments already set aside for the Wardens is more than enough for me. Anything is an improvement to sleeping on the ground." She nodded to the pan. "Take a knife, slip it under the bread and flip them." 

He wasn't sure if he was upset or happy that she didn't seem bothered that he wouldn't keep her in his rooms. He thought about it a bit more while he managed to not make too much of a mess flipping the sandwiches over. "Catte, you are an unexpected woman."

"I'm not a woman first, Maric, I'm a Grey Warden and I will always have a duty to the Warden's first. Anything else that I am is second to my duty." She took another large bite of bread and grinned at him. "But that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy things that come second to my duty." She threw a dish rag at him. "They're ready."

It wasn't the acknowledgement he wanted, but he would get that from her later that night. At least she wasn't angry with him. Then he realized that he hadn't been worried that she would be angry with him, he was worried that she would ignore the brief moment in the salle. Maric wrapped the rag around the handle and pulled the pan from the fire. He set it on the table between them. "You do realize that we could have had a feast in my apartments, right?"

She grabbed a hot sandwich and bit into it, ignoring the heat and savoring the taste. "But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of watching a king cook a meal."

He bit into the other sandwich and smiled as he chewed. She had been right, it was good, better than he had expected.

They ate in a comfortable silence and Maric found that he enjoyed watching her enjoy food. Even Rowan and Fiona had never seemed to exude the same simple pleasure in just eating. Catte was younger than his memories of those women, but she was so much more capable than them. He didn't understand why he was so attracted to her, what had brought about his desire to so thoroughly claim her. He had his choice of women, but none had managed to incite him the way she had. He felt the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind and even though his better sense told him to keep those thoughts away he let them inside. As soon as they fully revealed themselves to him, they rushed to his chest and pushed all of the air from him. Realization dawned and the thoughts nodded at his understanding. She was all of them. She was Rowan, hard and soft, loving and firm. She was Katriel, passionate and timid, innocent and cunning. She was Fiona, dutiful and rebellious, demanding and acquiescent. Maric looked away from her and concentrated on finishing his sandwich. There was no way she could have been created and shaped just for him, but it was as if the Maker himself and put everything he wanted in a woman into Catte and set her directly in his path.

When they finished eating, Catte began to slowly clean up the kitchen. Eventually he joined her and together they hid away any evidence of being there. In the same comfortable silence they walked to the wing housing their rooms. He wanted to kiss her goodnight and from the way she clenched her hands into fists, she wanted the same, but there were more than royal guards lurking in the hallway. Maric was certain that Catte could handle Loghain, but that inevitable confrontation didn't need to happen just yet. Maric had quieted Loghain's protests at the Warden Commander's presence by reminding his friend that Maric was the King and that Catte was Ferelden not Orlesian, but he knew it was only a temporary quiet. The explosion would manifest soon enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is graphic.

Catte lay naked in bed staring at the underside of the canopy. Whomever had held these rooms prior to her visit had been held in high regard. The furnishings were as luxurious as the King's and even had the added luxury of an additional room that housed a bathtub. The decoration was decidedly feminine and she furrowed her brow. Her mind went through all of the reports she had about Maric. None of them mentioned a mistress. There were occasional visits with prostitutes, but they were discreet and not even Loghain's men knew about them.

Her thoughts detoured around the idea of Maric with a prostitute and she was brought back to the salle. She imagined herself bent over the stand again, but this time she was naked. Her hands drifted to her breasts, her fingertips circling around her nipples, but not touching them. She imagined Maric naked as well as he walked around her. This time her hands weren't just fastened behind her back, they were also lifted up by a rope attached to the ceiling. Her hair was braided and the end of the braid was tied to the ropes holding her wrists up, forcing her body into the tight shape of a bow and her head up so that she could watch in the mirror. Maric had fastened her ankles to the legs of the armor stand, spreading her open. Her fingertips finally found her nipples and she pinched the hard flesh tightly between her fingers. She hissed at the pain, but her hips ground against the bed and her legs parted on their own volition from the pleasure. 

She imagined that it was Maric's fingers on her nipples and she opened her lips to her invisible lover when she imagined him sliding his cock into her mouth. She tormented her nipples, pulling them straight up and stretching her breasts, picturing Maric doing the same to control the movements of her mouth around his cock. Her legs began to close, but she stopped them, before she could rub her thighs together and instead opened her legs as far apart as they were in her imagination. She could feel how wet she was as it dripped from her, sliding down into her ass and she imagined that it was dripping lewdly down her thighs.

She dragged her hands down her chest, over her ribs, and with her fingers pointing down, she pressed her hands into her belly, imagining Maric pressing her down over the armor stand. Her fingers inched further down and she pressed a thumb against her clit while using the two fingers from her other hand to push past her wet lips into her pussy. Catte ground her hips against her hand and just as she was about to climax she stopped, quickly pulling her hands free. In her mind, Maric's hand slapped her bottom harshly and she heard his words. 'You will not come.'

Catte sat up and looked down at her hands. She was pulled from her reverie, but she was still aroused. Suddenly she was back in the salle and Maric was pushing his fingers into her mouth. She tasted herself, and moaned softly when she realized she was enjoying it. Catte pushed the blankets off of her, suddenly impatient to be away from the bed. Before she realized what she was doing, she wrapped her traveling cloak around her shoulders and stepped out onto the balcony. Her fingers gripped the railing of the balcony and she looked up at the night sky. 

She wasn't certain there was a Maker, but she knew that there had been a Dumat and so she closed her eyes to him, and prayed for any sign to help guide her. She knew better than to expect more than silence.  
Next to prayed to Zazikel, if anyone could appreciate the way her carefully constructed plans were falling apart it was him. Again there was nothing, perhaps Zazikel was enjoying her predicament. She skipped over Toth, he would just revel in the warmth that refused to dissipate from her body, even as she stood outside. Maybe Andoral would answer her. Of all the Old Gods, he might be the only one to understand the conflicting emotions and feelings rampaging through her mind and body.  
Catte hesitated before letting her mind wander to the Old Gods not yet wakened. She was practical and hardly spiritual, but sometimes it was better not to tempt fate. She stared up at the silent sky and turned her back on fate. Urthemiel was beauty personified. She desperately needed permission and maybe, maybe Urthemiel would find them beautiful enough to encourage her. Catte almost screamed back at the answering silence. She skipped over Razikale, there was no mystery here, he would have no interest in her doings. Her thoughts were on Lusacan when she turned back to return to her room and froze. The Old God of Night answered her prayers. 

She knew her rooms were next to his, she just figured that he would be asleep, or at the very least in bed. Instead, she saw that his study was filled with light. She carefully climbed over the railing separating the balconies and padded silently to the door leading to his bedroom. Her hand reached for the door, ready to open it when she hesitated. What if Maric had called for one of the prostitutes and she was in his bed? Was she prepared to face that? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Catte couldn't turn her back to a prayer answered by an Old God. She might turn her back to fate, but she wouldn't thumb her nose at it too. With a hand that she didn't quite fully control, she opened the door and stepped into the dark room. Without thought, she immediately looked to the bed and was relieved to find it empty. Pulling the cloak more tightly around her naked form she padded silently to the open door leading to the study.

Catte paused at the doorway, listening for any voices that might hint at a visitor. When she was satisfied that Maric was alone she slipped into the room. She was just a few feet away from him when he looked up from what he was reading. She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she saw that he appeared to be pleased to see her.

Maric was laying on the couch, reading one of the older texts his archivist had found about the siege at Dragon's Peak and he set the open book on his stomach to look up at her. Catte took a step forward and let the cloak fall to the floor. His breath caught at the sight of her. He took one of her hands and pressed it against his cheek before kissing the palm when he was overwhelmed by the scent of her fingers. Maric sat up and pulled her down onto his lap, letting the forgotten book fall to the floor. Once she was so close he realized why she looked so devastating. Her nipples were tight and hard, not from the cool air, but from blood and arousal. The sparse hair between her legs was damp, and her thighs glistened with a wetness. He could not only see her arousal, he could smell it.

He nuzzled her neck, "did you come little warden commander?"

She didn't speak, just moaned as his lips and whiskers tickled her skin and shook her head.

He chuckled softly and slid a finger into her, "who are you, Catte?"

He head fell back and she moaned out, "yours."

Maric slid a second and third finger in next to the first and pressed his thumb against her clit. "Ahh, little Catte, you've always known that your mine, at least that was what you intended." His hand was unrelenting and he noted with pride that even though the walls of her pussy clamped down around his fingers and rippled enticingly, she maintained control. He wrapped his lips around her closest nipple and pulled the hard flesh through his teeth. When he came to the tip, he bit down hard and his fingers were rewarded with a tight clenching of her muscles. His mouth pulled away. "What did you learn today, Catte?"

She lifted her head and looked down at him, she hadn't realized she was crying until she felt him kiss her cheeks and flick the tip of his tongue over her tears. Yet his hand continued its onslaught. When she finally spoke, her words were barely a whisper and even she had to strain to hear them. "I am only yours."

As soon as she spoke his lips found hers and he kissed her with a ferocity she didn't think anyone was capable of. His lips possessed her mouth and his tongue invaded, tasting her as if she was the only thing able to satiate his hunger. When he tasted the remains of her pleasure on her tongue, he filed it away for future reference. He spoke the command into her mouth, "come for me, my little warden commander". And she did. 

Her body responded with such intensity he was actually concerned that she might break his hand, but he refused to pull away, if anything he increased his efforts, keeping her in a state of perpetual climax. His mouth swallowed her screams of pleasure until there was no more left of herself to give and she collapsed on top of him. He slipped his hand free and wrapped his arms around her, tickling her back and she settled against him and eventually calmed down.

"You will stay the week."

She nodded her head, even though she knew he was merely stating a fact and that the right to make that decision had been taken away the moment she walked into his study and dropped her cloak.

Without any words he shifted her around until she was cradled in his arms and carried her to his bed. He wrapped the blanket around her and left her for a moment to pick up her cloak from the floor in the study and bring it back into the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and laid down on the bed next to her. He was on his back and he rolled her to him, pulling her arm and leg over his chest and waist. His shoulder became her pillow and his kissed the top of her head.

After a brief sleep, she woke him and they made love. They explored each other's body and examined the scars, studied the response and learned a new appreciation for the landscape of their bodies. When they finally fell asleep for the night, Maric was holding her close against his body and Catte was clinging tightly with arms and legs.

When Maric awoke in the morning he rolled over expecting to find her there, but his bed was empty. She had just left if the warmth of the vacant space was any indication.

Catte laid back in bed and closed her eyes tightly. She covered her eyes with her arm and nearly wept. Her carefully woven manipulations had just come unraveled and not only wasn't she doing anything to stop it, she didn't care.


	7. Chapter 7

The Warden Commander was planning on leaving Denerim soon and the palace was bustling with preparations for a feast in her honor the following night. Catte had lived up to her promise, and sparred with Cailan each day. That he was beginning to listen to her lessons and apply them to their workouts pleased her. She also sparred with the king in the afternoons. And when she won, he would bend her over the armor stand to soothe his wounded ego. When he won, he still bent her over the armor stand, but she faced him instead of away and he soothed her bruised ego with his mouth.

Catte visited his room every night. Maric explored her limits, pressing against her expectations and was pleasantly surprised that there seemed to be nothing she wouldn't try at least once. Every morning, Catte left before the servants arrived. She might be his, but they both understood the consequences of her being found in his bed.

She had even come to an uneasy truce with Loghain. They couldn't hide their mutual dislike for one another, but for Maric's sake they at least behaved civilly towards each other. Loghain even admitted, grudgingly and reluctantly, that her skill in the practice field was improving the skills of the soldiers and guards and Catte could be convinced to admit, under penalty of having her orgasm withheld, that Loghain was a better than decent tactician.

It still nettled her that the commoner made Teryn behaved as though she was beneath him. She was a Warden Commander and had been born to two Wardens, if anything he should be grateful that she would even deem him worthy enough to talk to. In Catte's world, the hierarchy was pretty simple, Grey Wardens, then Kings and queens or Emperors and Empresses, then everyone else. Loghain was everyone else.

Maric didn't help matters by stating that she would wear a gown for her feast and that she would have to attend the fittings. Catte was bored to oblivion and couldn't wait for the tedium to be done with, but when she looked at herself in the mirror she almost thought that it might be worth it. The gown was made of white silk and the seamstress had ignored all current fashion to create lines that closely mimicked her formal armor. Long tight sleeves, low cut bodice, corseted waist, and buttons up the back instead of lacings. The material clung to her body and she was momentarily concerned that it would look like she wasn't wearing anything at all. But Feritta, the seamstress, assuaged her fears by holding up the symbol of her rank and order made from blue velvet.

"I wanted to get the placement right, Warden Commander" the seamstress explained as she meticulously pinned it to the dress.

Catte sighed loudly. "You are not a Warden, Feritta and you've certainly seen more of me than most. Call me Catte, or Warden Catte, if you insist." Feritta was not everyone else. The seamstress had been patient and kind to her, something most women in the palace weren't. She didn't try to gossip or gain any information, she just was and Catte appreciated her.

After she was satisfied with the placement of the symbol of the Wardens, the seamstress stepped back and appraised her work. She made a clucking noise of approval. "It's still missing something."

Catte had turned her back to the mirror and was looking over her shoulder. She didn't think it was missing anything at all. Feritta fussed about as she unbuttoned the gown, helping Catte step free from it without causing any damage.

Catte pulled on her black leather pants and her linen shirt, happy to be back in clothing more comfortable to her.

"Warden Catte?"

"Hmm?" she didn't look up from fastening her belt holding her daggers in place. When Feritta didn't respond right away Catte looked up and noticed that the seamstress was actually blushing. "What is it, Feritta?"

"I was hoping to ask a favor of you, but I didn't wish it to appear that…"

Catte smiled at her. "If it's within my powers, it is the very least that I can do." She guided the seamstress to a chair and pressed her down into it. "What do you wish?"

"I have a nephew and my sister and his father are dead and I am responsible for him but I know nothing of being a parent and I fear that he will be locked away in Fort Drakon before long." Once the seamstress started the confession the words came pouring out. She took a deep breath. "He's like you, good with daggers."

"Send him to the gates this afternoon at the fourth bell. I’ll meet him there and if I think he might be a strong candidate, I'll test his abilities in the field." Catte crouched down in front of the woman and took her hands. "But, Feritta, I need to warn you, being a Warden isn't for everyone and there's no guarantee of a long and happy life." She bit the inside of her cheek, unsure of just how much she could say without breaking her vow.

The seamstress spoke, inadvertently saving her from saying more than was prudent. "I would rather he live a short worthy life than a long life amounting to nothing."

Catte nodded her head. "Very well."

Feritta smiled gratefully and then suddenly realized where she was. She stood up and packed away the gown and tools of her trade. "I'll have this sent over in the morning for you."

Catte had pulled on the leather armor and was lacing it up. "Actually, Feritta, I was hoping to ask a favor of you as well." She thread her arm through the crook of Feritta's elbow and led her towards the antechamber and door and then walked down the hallways with her to one of the side exits. "Might you be willing to bring it by yourself? We could have lunch and then you could help me dress?"

"Of course Warden Catte, I would be honored." Feritta smiled genuinely at her.

Catte squeezed her arm. "Thank you." They walked into the courtyard together and Catte ignored the impolite glares from members of the court. She didn't play their games and they were everyone else. "What's your nephew's name?"

"Corin, Warden Catte."

Catte almost tripped, but managed to catch herself. "How did he come about his name?"

Feritta looked curiously at the Warden Commander, but answered her. "From his father's family, I believe. My sister said that the eldest son of the eldest son was always named Corin so she agreed to make her husband happy."

"Feritta, perhaps I could walk with you to your shop and we could call your nephew to me. The Palace might be intimidating. How old is he?"

"Of course and he just turned 16." Feritta grew nervous. "Why is that too young?"

"No, of course not." Catte allowed the seamstress to lead the way, but noted that people in the open market stepped clear of them. She recognized a look of fear in some of their expressions and schooled her face into a pleasant visage. She wanted them to respect her, not tell stories about her to their children to keep them in line.

It turned out that they didn't have to call for Corin, he was attempting to woo the young woman Feritta had left behind to mind the shop and didn't seem to be having much success of it.

Catte smiled as she counted the number of daggers he had hidden on him. None were obvious which meant he didn't need to show them off to offset any lack of skill. When Feritta introduced her to him, she was pleased to see that he didn't avoid her gaze, but he also didn't boast and thump his chest at her like some young men would.

She placed her hands on his cheeks and looked into his eyes. She couldn't fully explain to any of the other Wardens what happened when she looked inside of potential recruits, it was just a sense that would manifest itself within her. She wasn't certain that he would survive the joining, but the sense let her know that he was capable of it. 

She gave Feritta a wide smile. "I'll take him. Assuming he wishes to be a recruit."

Corin took a step back, pulling free from her hands. "What do you mean, take me?"

"I'm willing to accept you as a Warden recruit if you want it." She turned and headed to the door, but paused before she left. "Think about it, I'll be in the market until the next bell. You have until then."

Catte was negotiating with a dwarf for a set of throwing daggers she liked the look of when Corin approached her. He waited for her to finish her dealings before speaking.

"What will I need to do?" Corin asked her.

"It doesn't work that way. You say yes or no. If you say yes, you come with me and you train until we decide you are ready." Catte bought two apples and tossed one to Corin. "If you say yes, you will leave Denerim with me."

"And if I say no?" He bit into the fruit.

Catte decided that she liked him and decided that it wasn't coincidence that he shared a name with the Warden who had ended the second blight. "I return to the palace and you return to avoiding the city guards."

Corin grinned and she noticed that one of his front teeth had a small chip. She ate her apple while he considered his options. She knew he would say yes, the same way she knew that he was capable of surviving the joining. She just needed to wait until he realized it.

"Will I get knives like yours?"

"No, you will get blades that are fitted to you and your fighting style." She smiled for him. "Corin, this isn't about making you into something else, this is about allowing you to be you."

The words convinced him. He nodded his head enthusiastically, "alright, I'll join."

"Come on, let's see how good you are with those daggers have secreted beneath your clothes." She tossed the apple core onto a refuse pile and walked away, not waiting to see if Corin would follow her.

Maric was busy in meetings, so when he finally made his way down to the practice field, he wasn't surprised to see Catte sparring with someone else. He was surprised to see that it wasn't one of his guards or soldiers. He leaned against the fence and watched them. The boy was younger than Catte, and didn't have half of her finesse, but even he could see that the boy's responses were instinctual and good. When Catte faded from view Maric was surprised to hear the boy laugh and shout out 'no fair, Commander!' Maric heard Catte's laughter before he saw her.

"No fair, Corin, you sound like the prince." She noticed the King watching them and threw her arm around Corin's shoulder. "First lesson. Everything is always fair." She guided them to the fence and the King. 

Once Corin realized who they were walking towards, Maric noted that the boy's body tensed, but Catte ignored it. 

"Maric, may I present Warden Recruit Corin." Catte pushed the boy ahead of her. "His aunt is the seamstress working on my gown. "

Maric smiled at the kid, hoping he would relax a little bit. It didn't work, if anything the boy became more flustered he blushed and stammered and looked at the ground.

"Lesson two. You are a Warden recruit and while you are not a full warden, you still only answer to the Wardens. We respect the King and the throne, but we are Wardens first." Her words were gentle and eventually coaxed Corin to look up. "You are no better nor worse than him, Corin."

The boy still didn't speak, but at least he wasn't falling apart as much as he had been.

"Go back to your aunt's. Say your goodbyes to your friends tomorrow and don't get into too much trouble." She shoved Corin towards the city gates and he almost took off at a run before she could change her mind and call him back.

"You already found a replacement for me, just because I was late?" Maric grinned at her.

"You are irreplaceable. He was a poor substitute." She shrugged her shoulders. "I just wanted an idea of what we'd need to work on. Fortunately he's had no formal training, so we don't have any bad habits to break."

"He seemed capable." Maric noted the addition of throwing daggers belted to her thigh.

"He has potential. But unlike you, I was going easy on him." She winked at him. "Still want to take a few swings at me?"

"I just came down to tell you that Loghain has decided that there are several matters that I must weigh in on today." He watched her jump over the fence and they walked back towards the palace together. "But we will have dinner in my rooms tonight."

The corners of Catte's mouth turned up in a small grin. "So that means you concede, and I win."

The King laughed loudly enough for others in the courtyard to turn and wonder what he found so funny. For her part, Catte's smile revealed nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

Feritta found Catte sitting at the dressing table staring at her reflection in horror. The seamstress couldn't say that she disagreed with the reason for the expression. Catte's face was heavily painted and her hair was twisted about in what Feritta thought was supposed to invoke the idea of a griffon.

"Oh, Catte." She forgot the honorific and went to work. Feritta started with the hair, she didn't bother to be gentle, her only goal was to remove any vestige of its memory. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. It just happened and I just…" 

"No matter. We'll fix it." Once her hair had been let down and the seamstress was brushing it out, both women actually sighed. Feritta wet a towel and gently wiped Catte's face until it too had been erased. Feritta had an idea of what had happened. One of the Arlessas had volunteered to send someone to help the Waden Commander and the King hadn't realized that the offer wasn't genuine. "Corin hasn't stopped talking about you, Warden Catte. Thank you."

Catte smiled up at the seamstress. "He's a good boy. He will make you and Denerim proud." Relieved to be distracted, she nodded towards the table. "Help yourself to anything, Feritta." The warden bit into the bread layered with meat and cheese sitting on the dressing table.

"You can't wear your hair down like that. We'll have to come up with something different." Feritta was studying the back of Catte's head and absently eating a handful of dried fruit.

"At this point, I am honestly considering skulking off right now and avoiding this whole thing entirely."

"And waste the opportunity to wear your gown? Never." Feritta moved behind Catte and began to braid her hair into a single plait down her back. She pulled a few wisps of hair free around Catte's face. "The idea to make it appear as if you aren't trying."

"That shouldn't be too hard, I'm not." Catte felt much more comfortable once Feritta arrived.

The seamstress had been digging through her bag and finally found what she had been looking for. She returned to Catte and with deft fingers started sewing seed pearls into the braid. The final touch was sewing the end up to the underside so that the bottom of the braid looked finished. Catte looked at her profile and admired the effect.

"Now, finish eating. Once I get this dress on you, you aren't going near any food, Warden."

Catte grinned and did as she was bid. She was picking at some slices of meat when Feritta cleared her throat.

"Corin mentioned that the gown wasn't very practical for you, so I added some things. Since you use daggers, we added slits into the sides below your hips. You'll be able to hide a dagger under the gown and if it's positioned right, no one should see it."

Catte's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Once more the seamstress had whittled away a layer of insecurity about the upcoming event and added a level of comfort.

She held the dress out for Catte. "Ready?"

Once more Catte found herself admiring the reflection in the mirror. Feritta stood in front of her holding out the blue boots.

Catte's eyes opened wide, "really?"

"You wouldn't be comfortable in any of the popular dancing slippers and it's not like anyone will actually see them." The seamstress knelt down and helped Catte pull on the boots and fasten them. "And the final piece. I knew that something was missing, but it wasn't until I added the slits for you to be able to wear daggers that I realized what it needed." Feritta got up and pulled yet another miracle from one of her bags. 

At first Catte thought that it was a cloak, but then realized it was a train. The seamstress slipped it into place on fasteners hidden by the edge of the griffons' feet. The train was a blue silk, the color almost exactly matching he blue of the griffons, and silver on the underside. The overall effect surprised even Catte. For a girl who had never dreamt of wearing gowns and attending balls, she actually began to appreciate the reasons for those dreams. It was all she could do not to hug Feritta and in the end she gave in, holding the older woman close to her. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, Warden Commander." Feritta smiled at her. "Now, I assume the King will be here shortly to escort you. Remember, no matter what happens, just enjoy yourself. You don't need to try to be anything but what you are."

A tiny part of Catte regretted taking Corin as a recruit, but she was able to squash it down with all the other regrets. Feritta slipped out the door while Catte admired herself in the mirror. Catte tried to find a way to wear a dagger, but no matter where she placed the leather belt, it could easily be seen beneath the thin silk. She finally gave up and slid the thin stiletto into the pocket on the inside of her boot. Catte practiced walking in the dress, suddenly grateful for Feritta once again that she was wearing boots and not slippers. The dress was narrow at her hips and fell straight down, so she couldn't take her usual long strides, but it also didn't get tangled up in her legs. She was pacing back and forth figuring out the nuances of the train when there was a knock at the door and it opened.

Maric walked in and almost gasped. He wasn't sure what he expected when he demanded that Catte wear a gown, but it certainly wasn't the sight in front of him. He cleared his throat and lowered his head in a near bow. "Warden Commander Catte."

Catte arched her right eyebrow. So he was going to play it formally. "King Maric." She walked towards him and placed the palm of her hand on his forearm. He looked almost dazzling in a red velvet jacket fitted tightly across his chest. The hem of the jacket ended mid-thigh and even though gold buttons ran the length from hem to collar, he had left the bottom unbuttoned. Cream leather pants, and shiny black boots completed his attire. He also wore a thin gold crown that settled down on his forehead and she realized that this was the first time she had seen him with a crown.

As they walked down the hallway to the Great Hall, Catte tilted her head towards Maric and whispered, "I'll give you 3 guesses to figure out where I have my dagger."

They were still chuckling when they approached the door and Maric nodded to the Seneschal. Loghain, the Seneshal, and his Chamberlain had all argued against the King entering the chamber with Catte, but Maric played his trump card – he was king, they weren't, and he was going to do what he wanted. Maric won the argument.

The Seneschal entered the Hall and signaled the crier. A booming voice echoed around the room, "His royal highness, King Maric and the Warden Commander of Ferelden, Warden Catte."

All conversation in the room died and everyone turned to look at the doorway. When the king entered, the banns and arls in residence bowed or curtseyed. Catte bowed her head to him in deference as well. The King took her hand and led her to the high table. He settled her into the chair placed to the right of his own chair, which had been placed on a small platform. Cailan was already seated on the King's left. Teryn Mac Tir was on Cailain's left (a prudent move on Maric's part), and if the Couslands had been in residence, they would have been to Catte's right. Instead the King's young bother-in-law, Teagan was sitting there. From that point on the Arls and were placed in order by favor according to whomever created the seating plan, beneath them, the Banns and finally the Lords.

"I am sorry that I missed your visit to Castle Redcliffe, Warden-Commander." Teagan grinned conspiratorially at her.

"It was only a short visit, a stopover if you will." Catte took a sip of wine.

"But a memorable stopover from what my nephew says." Teagan glanced around her shoulder and nodded to Cailan. "Speaking of whom, I believe there's a young boy a few seats away desperately trying to get your attention."

Catte smiled, "excuse me then." She turned in her chair and looked at Cailan. "Yes?"

"Where's your recruit, Warden?" It was taking all his self-control to stay in his chair, but that hadn't stopped him from leaning over the chair almost into his father's lap.

"He is spending this time with his family and friends, since he will be leaving with me tomorrow." Catte winked at the Prince, "but I will make certain to bring him with me the next time I visit." She didn't think it was fair to add, 'but he's not going to be able to tell you anything'.

"Is he a great warrior like my father or uncle Loghain?" Cailan was now precariously balanced between his father's chair and his own, yet technically still "in" his chair.

"No, he's like me, he uses daggers." Catte had to bite her lip to keep from telling Loghain that she could see his eye rolling despite his head being turned away from her.

Maric cleared his throat. Cailan sighed loudly, but sat back in his chair. "Do I have to worry about you stealing away all of my potential soldiers?" The King hid his smile behind his glass of wine.

"All of your soldiers and guards use weapons others than daggers." Their conversation was cut short when the food was brought out. The servants made a great show of presenting a large roasted pig, surrounded by a bounty of vegetables before serving.

Catte kept her gaze locked on the food, and it didn't go unnoticed by Maric. "Teagan?"

The young Bann looked over Catte's head at the king, "Yes your highness?"

"Prepare to be impressed." Maric grinned at him.

"I am always impressed by your court events, your Higness."

Catte rolled her eyes and gently kicked Maric's foot under the table. "He means me, Teagan. Apparently the amount of food I am prone to eat is entertaining to the King."

Maric pressed his leg against hers. "It is genuinely a feat worth of royal recognition."

The King's plate was set first, followed by the Prince's and then the servants began the incredibly silly tradition, as far as Catte was concerned, of placing plates down simultaneously for equally ranked nobles. Loghain's and Catte's plates were placed together and Catte preened a bit in her chair. It was small and petty, but she did enjoy the little things that rankled Loghain Mac Tir. As soon as her plate hit the table, Maric began eating. She smiled gratefully at him and then dove into the food. Teagan didn't know whether to be frightened or impressed and as usual, Maric was entertained. It wasn't just that the Warden Commander ate a lot, it was that she enjoyed eating and didn't hide it. The three Arlessas were aghast at her display, their older children enjoyed it, and the four Arls joked with one another about her other appetites. The Banns and Lords were too far away to notice. 

Eventually, dinner was finished and a protesting Cailan was sent off to his rooms. The tables were cleared and musicians began to play quietly from the balcony. Only because the feast was in her honor and there was no queen, the King stood and offered Catte his hand. "I believe that the others wish to dance, but they won't do so until I have danced first."

Her eyes narrowed at him and she cursed him under her breath, but she did take his hand. Catte was rarely uncertain, even when they explored the dark depths during their nights together, she had a surety about her that Maric admired. However, her hand was tentative, and her steps were hesitant when she followed him to the floor that had been cleared for dancing. Maric smiled at her reassuringly, placed his right hand firmly on her hip, just under the waist of the train of her gown and gently squeezed her hand.

"My shoulder. Just follow along, it won't be too painful." He spoke through the smile, hiding his guidance behind a casual conversation between two people dancing.

Catte rested her hand on his shoulder and willed herself to relax. It was during their second circle around the dance floor when his hand discovered the dagger slits. Unable to resist he slid his fingers under the silk and brushed his fingers against the bare skin of her bottom. Catte smirked at his quiet groan and noted that he pulled her a smidgen closer.

Maric looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. He knew that she didn't tend to wear the usual linens under her armor, but he figured that the seamstress he hired would have insisted.

"Feritta said it would ruin the lines. Whatever that means."

Maric decided at that very moment to pay the seamstress twice what he promised and to commission her to make a few more gowns for Catte. After the third circle, the Arls and Arlessas joined them in the dance and by the time they had completed a fourth circle, only a few of the nobility remained sitting. Catte was even starting to enjoy herself when the first "accident" happened. One of the Arlessas stepped on the ends of Catte's train just as Maric was spinning her around, but instead of the sound of ripping fabric, the train popped cleanly from its fastening without damaging the gown.

The Arlessa in question apologized, or at least pretended to. Maric managed to slip his hand free of Catte's dress before everyone realized he had been groping her under the silk. And Catte turned toward the Arlessa with the same predatory look she had once given Isolde, the Arlessa of Redcliffe. A servant raced out and picked up the train, intending to help the Warden with reattaching it, but Catte stopped her. 

"Please, return it to my room so it doesn't get damaged." Catte had been admiring her backside in the mirror, and assuming the step hadn't been accidental, the best punishment would be continuing without the train.

The King and Warden Commander continued dancing until the musicians switched to another song. Maric took her hand and led her back to the high table where they spoke quietly with Teagan and sipped at wine. Loghain had joined the conversation and talk turned to policy. Catte's eyes glazed over and she looked out at the room, bored with conversation that was of no interest to the Wardens. She noticed a gathering of young nobles in a darkened corner. Arl Howe was trying to ingratiate himself with the King and Catte took the opportunity to explore.

"Howe, take my chair." She stood up and stepped next to the King's seat. "I have need to walk around a bit, and to be honest, watching you lean half across the table has me on edge that you'll tip over at any minute." She walked along the side of the hall towards the back, stopping occasionally to talk with an older Bann.

Maric watched her retreat and vowed to pay Feritta even more. Without the train it looked as if the silk gown was nothing more than a liquid covering that had been poured over her body. Much like her formal armor it showed and hid everything at the same time.

Catte wove through the crowd. She knew where she was going, but to most it would just look like aimless wandering. The closer she got o the group in the corner and louder and crueler the laughter seemed. 

Maric continued to watch her, splitting his concentration between the conversation around him and what he was going to do with Catte once they retired for the evening. When she suddenly wasn't there anymore, he sat up straighter and his concentration shifted to figuring out what Catte was up to. A tight knot of nerves formed in his stomach.

Catte almost vomited at the scene the young men were hiding. A mabari puppy was being quartered. It looked like the boys had placed money down on which leg they thought was going to be torn from his body first. She saw the winches twisting and heard the puppy's pitiful whines. Cinn saw red.

She popped into view, standing between two boys. "What sort of game is this?" 

Most of the young men stepped back, but their ring leader just looked at her and sneered. "It's just the King's whore."

Catte raised her eyebrow at the comment, but said nothing. The ringleader was unfortunate in that he completely misinterpreted her response. He grabbed her and pulled her back to his chest. A hand clawed at her breast and she looked down, while the young man showed off for his friends. 

"Catte!" The King's voice reverberated throughout the Hall. Maric was standing, his hands on the table and leaning over it, and if he could have run across the room faster than his voice, he would have. If he had a sword, he would have severed the offending hand from its arm. 

The echo rolled through her body, embracing her with his concern. She looked up to the King and smiled slowly. "It's alright, Maric. I am only the King's whore, so obviously available to any brat whose only real experience is with his own hand."

She used her left hand to grab the hand assaulting her breast and twisted it painfully while she turned herself around. Her right hand wrapped around the boys neck and her fingers tightened ever so slowly. The Hall had gone silent with the King's shout, so when the bones in his hand and arm snapped everyone could hear them. Her fingers continued to squeeze until the boys eyes began to bug out from their sockets.  
"I assure you, the Warden Commander of Ferelden is not the King's whore. " she hissed at him through her smile. "And the Warden Commander of Ferelden has never enjoyed being groped." She continued to tighten her hand. "But most importantly, at least in regards to you, the Warden Commander of Ferelden could care less about heredity and peerage." Her left hand twisted his arm until she heard another loud snap of a bone breaking. " In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. We just never said whose death was the sacrifice." She wasn't going to kill him, but from the way he voided his bladder, he didn't know that. Catte released him and stepped back. She lifted the skirt of her dress up until she was able to pull the stiletto from her boot and then without another thought for the young man she had both crippled and humiliated she stepped over him. Bending down she cut the puppy free from his torture and cradled him to her chest. 

Ignoring the adolescents, Catte walked down the center of the Hall to the high table of the king, the small puppy limp and crying in her hands. She spoke softly to him with coos and reassuring words. When she finally stood in front of the King she held the crippled puppy out to him. "He needs a healer. He probably has three dislocated legs."

Loghain assessed the room and made a decision to run interference. He knew that Catte and Maric were sleeping together, but only because Maric had informed him. The nobles might have assumed and gossiped, but for the most part, the two were very discreet. It was only because the Warden Commander was a woman and that Maric had not taken a mistress after Rowan's death that they assumed she was sleeping with him. Loghain also knew that Catte exhibited extreme restraint, she was a deadly woman, and if the reports from his spies were accurate, she had killed men for less. The Teryn motioned to a guard and headed to the boy's father, Bann Ceorlic. Loghain pushed him from the Great Hall and could barely be heard telling the Bann over the whimpering boy (who was being escorted not very gently by the guardsman behind his father) that he probably shouldn't return to court until specifically asked to by the King.

Catte circled the table, the puppy still in her hands and sat back down in her chair. At some point Howe had not only vacated it, but had also cleared away from the table. A servant came to take the puppy and before Catte relinquished him, she kissed his nose. "Please settle him in my rooms once he has been looked over."

Maric raised an eyebrow at her. "I hardly think it would look amiss if you wished to return to your rooms."

"No, I think I would like to dance again." She hid a coy smile from the rest of the Hall behind her goblet of wine.

Soon after she spoke, the musicians were playing music again, and the King was escorting her back to the floor to dance. Her hand on his shoulder was surer, and his hand on her hip held her more tightly. The other nobles had no idea how to respond. The woman dancing with their King was laughing and very different from the woman they witnessed earlier. Slowly, one by one, they shrugged and almost universally decided to just ignore what they had seen. It was just easier that way.

Eventually the night came to an uneventful end and as with every other night, Maric led Catte to her door. But this night, he opened it and walked in with her. He found the basket with the puppy inside of it and picked it up, took her hand and pulled her back outside before she could protest. He only released her hand to open his own door and he picked it back up in order to pull her into his rooms. He shut the door with his foot and took Catte and the puppy into his study.

Maric carelessly tossed his crown onto his desk, "sit down, Catte." He poured her a glass of wine and himself some Antivan brandy.

She couldn't resist herself, she lifted the puppy from the basket and held him closely before settling onto the couch. Maric handed her the goblet and smiled at her interactions with the dog. He took off his overcoat and hung it over a chair before grabbing his brandy and a book and sitting down next to her. 

Catte reached down and unbuckled her boots, trying to slip them off without jostling the puppy too much. Once free of her footwear, she pulled her feet up onto the couch and leaned against the King. Maric stretched out his legs in front of him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

Catte was just about ready to break the silence when there was a knock at the door. Usually Maric would go to the door himself if Catte was present, but this time he barked out, "Come." To whomever was outside. He smiled and kissed the top of Catte's head. "Perpare yourself."

Loghain strode into the room, "Well that was… interesting." He stopped when saw Catte in the room, but didn't show his usual distaste. 

Maric nodded to the brandy. "What should we do about the other boys?"

Catte was rubbing the soft velvet of the puppy's ear. "Assign them to the Royal Kennels for a week or so."

"They are sons of nobles, Catte, we can't do that." Maric put the book down and took a sip of his drink.

"And that is why you have sons of nobles torturing puppies and accosting the Warden Commander." Catte's attention drifted back to the puppy.

"She's not wrong, your Highness." Loghain decided that he needed more brandy for this conversation.

Maric glowered between Catte and Loghain, wondering briefly what had happened to cause them not to bicker like children. "Send them away for a few months." It was the easiest punishment to dole out without causing problems. "What about the other thing?"

Catte teased Maric, "what other thing?"

Loghain closed his eyes and finished off his brandy and poured another glass. He was going to need a lot of brandy to get through the rest of the night.

"You know, the whore comment." Maric looked at Loghain.

The Teryn grimaced. Once more the Wardens had managed to make his life miserable. He shouldn't have to be worried about these things. "Maric, do you really think that anyone would actually touch the king's whore much less call her that?" He smirked at the woman, "no offense, Warden."

"And here I thought you were talking about yourself."

Maric smiled to himself. At least they weren't agreeing with each other anymore.

Loghain ignored Catte, "It is gossip, nothing more. As soon as she leaves, the nobility will find something else to gossip about. Although shouting out her name might not have helped you."  
"What would you have me do, let some prat fondle the guest of honor without comment?"

"You could have used her title."

"Rank."

Both men looked at her, but it was Maric who asked the question, "what?"

"Rank, it's my rank, not a title. The only titles really belong to the First Warden and High Constable. The rest of us are just Wardens and Warden Commander is just a rank like Warden recruit or Senior Warden."

Loghain gave up. He slumped back in the chair he was sitting on, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am quickly coming to the conclusion that I should have just given up years ago. I could be in Gwaren right now, it's early enough to plant some grains for fall harvest."

Catte looked up at Maric's jaw. "I think you broke him."

"You? I don't think I was alone in this endeavor."

Catte held the puppy out to Loghain, unable to resist, "Loghain? Want the puppy? He has very soft ears."

Loghain didn't bother to open his eyes, he just finished his brandy in one gulp. "I would be a content man if I never saw another Grey Warden. Your kind will be the death of me." Loghain put the glass down and stood up. "I'll make arrangements to send the other boys away. Ceorlic and his son left Denerim already, apparently wetting oneself in front of everyone was more humiliating than being caught out in the process of killing an animal at a Court dinner and then groping the Warden Commander."

Loghain was in the antechamber when Maric yelled out to him, "sure you don't want the puppy?"

The Teryn just closed the door in response.

Maric leaned down while lifting Catte's chin so he could kiss her. She moaned softly against his lips. "Put the puppy down, my little Warden Commander."

A shiver ran through Catte's body. She slipped off the couch and placed the sleeping puppy back in his basket. Maric reached for her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him until she stood between his legs. His hands slipped into the slits on her hips and his fingers pressed against the flesh of bottom. He rested his cheek against her flat stomach. "I realized something tonight, Catte."

She combed her fingers through his hair, noticing the random grey hairs hidden by the blonde. "And what is that?"

He looked up and stared at her. "I don't want another man touching you."

Her fingers hesitated for a moment before continuing. She had no idea how to respond to him. Every instinct told her to be honest, but those instincts weren't the instincts of a Warden, they were the instincts that belonged to women. She compromised and while it didn't make her happy, it appeased the grey Warden and the woman. "Everything I have after I am a Warden is yours."

His hands slipped further beneath her dress and laced together. He pressed his lips against her stomach. He didn't make the same promise to her, and she didn't ask him to. Another woman, not even alive, already held that claim.

Maric stood up, dragging his lips along the velvet of the griffon, her exposed sternum and finally her neck then jaw before finally kissing her lips. He lifted her up , wrapped her legs around his waist and carried her into his bedroom. 

For the first time since Catte arrived, she was still asleep next to Maric when he woke in the morning. This wasn't by her choice. During the night he had bound her wrists and fastened them to his headboard. She hadn't protested until she realized that he had no intention of releasing her. He woke her up with kisses to her neck while his fingers explored the expanses of her skin. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled. He gently pressed her legs open and slid into her. He was pleased to find her as wet as he was hard. Their hips moved with one another, their bodies fitting together in ways that deepened each other's pleasure. Silently they made love, her arms still stretch out above her, her body stretched out beneath him. Eventually neither could prevent the inevitable and with a gentle kiss, Maric climaxed right after Catte.

The King slipped from the bed, leaving her tethered and pulled on a robe. He left the room before she could protest. When he returned, he had dark armor in hand. Reluctantly he untied her, gently kneading away any soreness in her shoulders. 

They kissed once more. It would be their last kiss until Maric called her back to Denerim and they both knew it. Once they broke away from one another, she would clean and dress and prepare to start her travels back to Dragon's Peak.

"I need to trade you my horse for two of yours." Catte was brushing out her hair, trying to dislodge the tiny pearls.

"What's wrong with your horse?" Maric was playing with the puppy, happy to see that he didn't seem to be permanently harmed.

"Nothing, but Corin won't be able to keep up with mine so it's just easier to leave mine behind."

Maric looked up at her.

"Warden horses are bred for endurance, we need to be able to move quickly and constantly. Switching horses isn't always convenient." She didn't tell him the rest, too many secrets. "You'll like him, he's a good horse. He could easily carry you in full armor for a full day without tiring."

"Wonderful, another beast I can fall off of." Maric leaned back, watching her.

"If you were to fall off of him, I would be surprised." She turned over her shoulder to look at him. "I can sleep in his saddle and stay on without being tied."

"It's what I do, and I am very good at it as well." Maric left the puppy to worry at the edge of the rug and walked over to Catte to kiss her neck.

"It's not the only thing you are good at." She slipped away from him before he could distract her further, scooped up the puppy and sat down to the breakfast. Catte shared her meal with the dog and Maric watched with admiration for their appetites.

The knock at the door surprised them, but Maric called out the invitation to enter. There was nothing untoward with the King sharing a meal in his study with a visiting diplomat. When the chamberlain entered he was clearly annoyed by something and didn't care enough to hide it.

"There's a boy claiming to be a warden recruit."

Maric looked at his servant, "and what am I to do with that information?"

"He's at the gates, has been since the sun came up." The chamberlain glared at Catte. "He says he's supposed to travel with the Warden Commander this morning."

Catte grinned at him. "He is, please allow him into the courtyard at least and tell him that I will be down shortly. Unless he'd rather come here." She enjoyed watching the chamberlain squirm almost as much as she enjoyed tormenting Loghain. She looked at Maric, "I supposed I'll need to stick griffons on our armor so that it's a bit more obvious."

Maric waved the chamberlain away, "tell the stables to have two of my horses saddled as well and to find a more permanent stall for that beast the Warden rode in."

Eventually the meal was finished and there was nothing left to keep Catte from leaving. Before they left his rooms he pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss.

Cailan was in the courtyard to see them off, already talking non-stop to Corin, who was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. They Warden Commander and Warden recruit mounted their horses and Catte carefully packed the puppy into one of her saddle packs. Maric and Cailan watched them ride out of the courtyard before returning to the Palace. The king placed a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed.


End file.
